koigokoro... Awakening Love
by Desi
Summary: Aoshi & Misao
1. Default Chapter

In the garden of time and destiny, we have seen both

the autumn and the spring

We have seen both the time of joy and the time

of sorrowNâbî

What an odd pair they might seem to anyone who could catch a glimpse of them. The young girl in her soft blue satin clothes, the fine, inky-black wisps of hair framing her deceptively innocent face, a deep contrast to his dark clothes and frightening mask that often earned him the name 'Akuma'. They were too well hidden from the untrained eye however, perched high above the ground in one of the many pine trees that lined the streets of Kyoto, blending with the shadows, quietly keeping watch over the city as it readied for bed. 

"It must be nice to live behind a mask." Misao broke the silence with her absently whispered observance. "Ne Hanya?"

Hanya, used to her clear and unsubtle questioning was not often surprised when they came. This comment however, earned her a sharp look as it had caught him completely off guard. She met his gaze with her usual smiling eyes but he noticed, for the first time that there was something more in the cerulean depths than her normal candor. Something that he would have never expected to see in _'her'_ eyes, that he _'had'_ never seen in her eyes… sadness.

_When had this happened?_ He wondered. _And why had he not noticed it before?_

"What I mean is…" She paused and lowered her eyes, feigning interest in the clasp that held her braid. "To reveal to the world your chosen face and…"

She paused; letting out a quiet, mirthless laugh and shaking her head before once again turning her eyes to meet his behind the mask he wore. He remained silent as he watched her fingers seek out the end of her long braid and absently begin to toy with it, as she often did when something was troubling her.

"You would never have to hide your feelings." She continued quietly with hesitation. "You could smile, even as you wept."

"Aah." He agreed with an accompanying nod was all the response he could produce as he sat stunned wondering silently, _who was this beautiful woman beside him and when did she replace his Misao-chan with her wisdom and grown up looks?_

At his continued silence she offered him another sad smile and turned her head to gaze up at the sky, offering him the chance to view her objectively, for the first time, without his eyes clouded by her childhood image superimposed over the image of her now. How could he have missed it, her fine, pale skin accentuated by the dark hair that framed the delicate features of her face and set off her bright blue eyes? He smirked behind his mask as he noticed that she even had curves, the chubby-ness of her childhood had evaporated and the womanly figure beneath had filled out without him even knowing, until now. He would love to laugh and tease her about it but knew she would exact revenge, the likes of which hell could not compare if he did and so remained quiet on the subject. 

Many things became clear to him in that moment of observation, many things he had dismissed as inconsequential at the time they had occurred. The lingering looks of the male customers he'd noticed in the Aoiya as he'd stood guard and watched over them. Even those among his own were already on the verge of being in love with her as he recalled a stuttering Beshimi and deeply, red-faced Shikijou running away in reaction to her flirtations. Shiro was probably the most serious as Hanya remembered the young onmitsu on several occasions, not merely gazing at her as the others did but taking great pains to please her and often reacting to Misao's flirtatious nature in kind. Strange how he had not made the connection earlier, maybe because it appeared, if he recalled correctly, that Misao herself had not noticed, or took it any more seriously than her own innocent teasing. Of course he could be wrong, maybe she did know and maybe Misao felt about Shiro the way he now suspected Shiro felt about her.

"Hanya?" She halted his train of thought with her hesitantly whispered question. "Do you know what it means to love someone?"

Surprising him twice in one night was a record; it wasn't so much that her question had surprised him, it was more the fact that it happened to correspond with his thoughts her query had interrupted. Hanya quietly contemplated his answer, not sure how he could explain it to her. He knew what it meant to feel love for others, he did feel love for others, so much in fact that he would lay down his life for any one of them. What she was asking him about though, was the kind of love that is shared between two people that had no boundaries, that made two people one… romantic love.

The cruelty of his youth had left its mark on him however and Hanya knew that he could never give so much of himself to another, nor could he accept such a gift from another. Without a doubt he would be half in love with her already if he granted himself such liberties. He did love her, as he loved Aoshi-sama and the others, as much as one such as he was permitted to love others and although what he displayed to her, to any of them could not really be deemed as affection, they all knew that he loved them. 

"I love you and Aoshi-sama," He answered her carefully, honestly, trying his best to avoid the real subject of her question. "As well as the others."

"I'm not talking about the way _'you'_ love Aoshi-sama." She reiterated, sighing heavily, her tone that of an elder speaking to an obtuse child. He would have to be an idiot to have missed the emphasis of that one word; he was surprised yet again. It seemed he would have no chance to evade the subject.

"Misao-chan?" He inquired gently unsuccessfully trying to mask the surprise in his voice. "Are you in love with Aoshi-sama?"

Hanya waited patiently as she returned her eyes to the sky, her fingers still absently toying with her braid, her silence carrying on for several moments.

"How does one know they're in love Hanya?" She responded with a question of her own. "Is there some kind of formula you work out? A riddle that you suddenly know the answer to?"

She kept her face averted as he stared at her; he had noted her evasive answer and it merely served to strengthen his suspicion. If he had been paying closer attention he might have realized it sooner; he wondered if Aoshi suspected her feelings or if she had told him of them. Neither would surprise him and it would certainly explain the recent rift that had cropped up between the two of them in the last month or so. Not even a rift really, it was more of a tangible discomfort, a conscious effort that both of them made to be someplace other than in the company of one another. Hanya was saddened at seeing the two people who meant the most to him in this state of unease. Misao and Aoshi had always been so close, had always shared an underlying affinity that it was disheartening to see them drifting apart, whatever the reason. He silently reprimanded himself again for his lack of perception, he had put this 'rift' between them down as Misao simply being a girl, which no one could ever understand completely except another female.

He would try to answer her in a way that would put her at ease but was not completely convinced that he was the right person to give her advice on such a subject, she might be better off asking Okon or Omasu in matters of the heart.

"I have never been in love Misao-chan." His voice prompted her face to turn and meet his gaze. "Shikashi… I would imagine that knowing you are in love is like…" he paused searching for the exact words to use.

"…Is like?" She prompted him to continue her eagerness for his answer evident in the tone of her voice.

"…Like knowing which weapon is your favorite." He noted her frown as well as the firm disbelief showing in her eyes at his analogy and stopped, giving a short laugh as he shook his head. He should have known better than attempt to explain something such as this.

"Please," Hanya felt the light pressure of her hand on his as she spoke and looked up to see eyes that beseeched him. "Go on."

He was surprised to say the least but cleared his throat and continued as she had asked. He swiftly produced a kunai grasping it gently in his fingers.

"Well… there's just something about the feel, the weight, the smoothness or roughness of it against the palm of your hand." She nodded as he continued. "You can't explain it, you just know that it's your favorite. Love… the weight of it in your heart… smooth or rough, without explanation, you just know that it's love."

He met her steadfast gaze evenly and watched the play of emotion run across her face as she assessed his explanation and drew her own conclusions from his words. She began to nervously chew her bottom lip and he knew that something was still troubling her. He waited, knowing that another question would certainly follow; he did not have to wait long…

"Should I…" Misao began only to halt and begin again. "Do you think one should tell a person how they feel about them?"

__

Should I? If he had not already suspected, those two words would have told him that she was indeed in love and her continued uncertainly had him convinced it was with Aoshi. But how should he answer her? He knew that he would never have the courage to confess such feelings to another, but then she was not like him. He had learned at a very young age how vulnerable one could be, both physically and emotionally. He'd learned to guard against it as one of the Oniwabanshu, they all had and that included Misao, to a degree. She was strong, no one could argue that and it was more than just physical strength. However, Misao's time as one of the Oniwabanshu had been after the war and the difference in training, in mentality, in all things, was significant. Outside the death of her parents, of which she had been too young to retain any clear memory of, Misao had never suffered wounds to the heart. So, how should he answer her? How should he tell her… by all means Misao, if the one you love is Shiro, or the merchant's son who admires you as he eats his meal, or any other respectable person in Kyoto, tell them of your feelings for they will gladly lay their heart at your feet. If the person you love is Aoshi however, bury your feelings deep; do not utter a word of it for I fear it will not bring you happiness.

It behooved Hanya to take his time thinking over his answer as the sense of one of their own tickled his senses and he was saved from having to reply. For know anyhow…

"Our relief watch is here." He announced as he climbed to his feet, watching below as Shiro emerged from the shadows. Misao climbed up beside him and recognizing Shiro she leapt from the branch that had been their perch, somersaulting through the air she landed as light and graceful as if she were a gentle lady stepping from a carriage. 

Hanya waited above, as was the procedure when relieving another, to report any anomalies as well as receive any information from your replacement. It also afforded Hanya the chance to confirm what he believed he'd seen earlier, in regards to Shiro's feelings for Misao. It did not take long, as the two of them spoke in tones barely above a whisper; Shiro was hanging on her every word and was quite obvious in a matter of seconds how he felt. Not quite so obvious were Misao's feelings for Shiro, always gentle and affectionate, Misao who always wore her emotions in plain sight now proved more difficult to gauge because of it. She seemed to receive his attentions easy enough but whether that was because she returned them or simply because she was oblivious to them Hanya could not tell.

Growing instantly alert at the sudden sense of someone nearby, someone watching with angry eyes, watching Misao. Hanya's eyes pierced the darkness in search of the source, wondering if it could be the one they were watching out for before he caught the impression of familiarity, realizing in less than a moment that the person was Oniwabanshu.

The night was full of surprises as he realized a half second later that it was none other than the Okashira, he rarely checked up on his people, always having complete confidence in them carrying out their duties. What surprised Hanya more than his appearance however, was the anger he could feel emanating from him, it was masked now, but for it to have surfaced at all… and for it to be directed at Misao. Aoshi was not the most candid person with his emotions, even his smile, if one could call it that, revealed little pleasure as it was often devoid of emotion. So why would he reveal his anger so boldly, what could have made him forget himself? Aoshi knew he was being watched; he would have sensed Hanya's eyes on him from the beginning. He had not become Okashira at fifteen by being a fool and when Misao and Shiro stiffened at recognizing his presence only moments after himself, Aoshi silently separated himself from the shadows and moved forward.

Hanya remained at his post, quietly observing the interaction of those below, their voices barely enough to penetrate the night air but to Hanya's expertly trained, sensitive hearing they could be shouting.

"Misao." Aoshi was the first to break the silence and it seemed strange that he would address her directly when they had all witnessed the growing silence between them of late. "Your shift is over, it's time for you to head back to the Aoiya."

Hanya noted the significant change take over Misao as Aoshi spoke to her. Her open smile disappeared, the brightness of her eyes dampened, it was as if a door had suddenly closed and all her emotions were now behind it. It seemed that she had learned a great deal more from their Okashira than he realized.

"I had planned on remaining a while longer with Shiro." The emptiness in her voice matched that of Aoshi's.

"Shiro does not need your assistance." Came Aoshi's quick reply, surprising Hanya with his words. Why would Aoshi refuse to let Misao stay longer; there was certainly no harm in it.

"Hanya did not need my assistance either, yet you sent me with him." Misao paused and when she spoke again her voice was clearly angry. "Or was it that Hanya was sent to assist me because you feel I could not do it alone?"

The heavy silence matched the tension in the air, Shiro wisely decided to remain, or at least pretend to be, aloof and oblivious to the two beside him. Hanya, however, although quiet stared in shocked disbelief at what he was witnessing below. He could never recall Misao speaking so disrespectfully to Aoshi, not even after their 'misunderstanding' or whatever it was that had made them avoid each other. And Aoshi… Hanya could not understand his earlier anger or why he would refuse to allow Misao to stay longer with Shiro. She was strong enough to take care of herself and her walking back to the Aoiya unaccompanied in the middle of the night was no cause for concern. Hanya knew the two of them would never put their personal feelings or desires above their duty, they felt their position as Oniwabanshu far to deeply for that. So why deny her, why not let her enjoy some time with Shiro. If the two of them had discovered something special between them outside of being Oniwabanshu why should Aoshi deny them, unless…

Hanya's eyes narrowed to near pinpoints. Could it really be possible? He wondered as his sharp gaze looked from the Okashira to the defiant Misao. Did Aoshi-sama harbor such feelings for Misao that he could be jealous of what 'appeared' to be developing between her and Shiro?

The very idea was laughable, less than a day ago Hanya would have laughed in the face of anyone who would have suggested it. Tonight however, Hanya had seen with his own eyes the possibility of such an idea. Aoshi's earlier anger, his refusal to allow Misao to remain with Shiro, it suggested something that Hanya would have never thought possible from his Okashira… jealousy. 

"This is not up for discussion Misao." Aoshi's voice filled the silence. "You and Hanya will return to the Aoiya and leave Shiro to his post."

Hanya watched as Misao shook with anger as Aoshi turned his back on her, but even she was not so brave as to argue with such finality from Aoshi. Still she did her best to defy him and turned to Shiro, her smile returning as she told him that she would accompany him tomorrow afternoon as promised and after a cheerful goodnight to Shiro she turned and smirked at Aoshi.

__

That girl… she could test the patience of a monk! Hanya grumbled silently as he listened and watched her dig at their Okashira in any manner she could. Aoshi made no outward acknowledgment that he heard Misao and this only served to make her more angry. Hanya had felt something from him however, it was brief and quickly covered up but there had indeed been something. He would have loved to remain where he was and reflect further on his observations but Shiro mumbled a quick goodnight and leapt into the tree, landing quietly beside Hanya. He was half tempted to ask the young ninja just what the hell was happening with those two but remained silent on the subject, stating quickly that there was nothing to report and jumped down.

"Anything out of the ordinary Hanya?" Aoshi asked.

"Nothing Okashira." He replied while thinking 'nothing but you and Misao.'

Misao sighed heavily and stomped off angrily toward the Aoiya, he and Aoshi following close behind, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Hanya sneaked a few glances at Aoshi as they walked along in silence; he would never have believed his Okashira capable of what he now suspected. Still, if Aoshi did have such feelings for Misao, if he was indeed in love with her this did not necessarily constitute good news for Misao. Aoshi did not take well to that which he did not understand, emotions especially. Not to say he didn't feel things, quite the contrary, he felt things very deeply and for that very reason he kept them locked away.

Hanya raised his eyes, his gaze turning sympathetic as he watched Misao, her angry stride putting more distance between them… no, not between _them_, between her and Aoshi. If only things were as they used to be, if only she were still a small child, easily pacified with an embrace, her cheerfulness restored with just the right word. He knew that would not help matters now, even so, he would do what he could for her, for both of them.


	2. koigokoro... Awakening Love part 2

Well, here's the next installment, I wanted this part to be further along but my brain is not cooperating

Well, here's the next installment, I wanted this part to be further along but my brain is not cooperating. Arigato Nina-chan for pre- reading, Moderator Misao for suggesting such a great challenge and Watsuki for giving us such fun subjects like Aoshi & Misao to play with.

Disclaimers: As I just said... Watsuki gave us Aoshi & Misao as well as the rest of RK. The poem as it states was written by Nabi.

Warnings: A kiss 

Almost forgot... Japanese words in the story

Ano toki - that time

yukata - a sort of light cotton bath robe

dooshite - what's wrong

gomen - sorry 

======================================================================

__

We have seen countless stone fortresses

in the land of worldly fame

And not one could withstand the exploding sigh

of a broken heart.---------------------Nâbî.

She was beyond angry and if her stomping up the stairs to her room had not alerted everyone in the Aoiya to this, the shoji which only just now ceased rattling after her flinging it shut so violently would certainly have done so. If she'd applied even the slightest bit more force the doors would now be a pile of splinters and scrap paper on the floor. 

__

Just what the hell did Aoshi think he was playing at? She wondered as she angrily paced the length of her room, back and forth back and forth as she yanked and pulled at her obi which remained frustratingly in place under her shaking fingers. He had hardly spoken two words to her in as many months and for him to speak in such a way, as if she were still a child. She almost hated him in that moment almost wanted to hurt him, to speak to him in the same hurtful manner that he had addressed her. Misao paused in her task of unwinding the obi from around her waist as the realization of her thoughts hit her full on. She would never have allowed anyone to cause him pain in the past, let alone want to do so herself; for her to admit such a thing, even as a silent, unspoken thought, was beyond comprehension 

__

What had happened to the two of them? She wondered as she proceeded to undress, her movements growing calm and slow as her thoughts became more preoccupying; she lay her carefully folded uniform in the drawer of her small chest. Things had not always been like this between them, they had once been very close and she had shared everything with him, her thoughts and ideas, her pain and her happiness. He was her hero, her teacher, her confidante, and her friend until… ano toki.

=

For what seemed like the hundredth time that night Misao wiped away the droplet of sweat that rolled from where it beaded on her forehead and over her brow, before it could reach her eye. She had learned her lesson when it had taken nearly half an hour for the excruciating sting to stop after the first one had found it's way there. She had long since tossed aside her blanket and opened the window in an attempt to find some relief from the oppressive heat of a mid-summer evening in Kyoto. She had given up counting the number of times she'd tossed and turned from her back to her stomach and back again. Her last resort was an effort at meditation, but as she stared up at the ceiling, giving every effort to clear her mind of everything, she could not escape the miserable feeling of the sweat that was now settled between her body and the futon. Unable to bear it any longer she climbed to her feet, dressing in her lightest yukata, made of cotton, well worn and on the verge of being threadbare she deserted her room for someplace more temperate. 

Quietly making her way downstairs, tip-toeing out of habit, knowing that those she shared this house with heard her the moment she put her foot on the floor, so expertly were they all trained. Misao made her way through the stifling Aoiya, moving past shoji that were normally closed to any passer-by as the occupant slept on the other side, were now flung wide to allow any movement of air to flow through and hopefully, cool them off. 

She sighed as she stepped through the doorway into the night. The relief wasn't much; a slight breeze that was barely enough to lift a few strands of her hair, nothing more. Still she welcomed it, however slight; it felt better than being inside. About to make her way down the steps she halted as she realized there was another occupant in the garden. _Aoshi_. He was sitting on the bench near the pond, his back to her; even with her eyes closed she would know it was him.

Misao stood still; half tempted to go elsewhere for her relief from the overbearing heat. Not that she didn't want to be near him, quite the contrary; she always wanted to be near him. She had loved him her entire life, a love that constantly evolved as she grew up; in her earliest years he'd been her guardian and as such had taught her so many things. Through out her adolescence he'd been more like a brother whom she worshipped like a hero and now… now her feelings, her _'love'_ for him was evolving yet again.

It was strange; she could not even recall when it had begun. It was as if she woke up one day in a state of confusion, imagining what it would be like to feel his mouth against hers, to feel all those things that Okon and Omasu blushed and giggled about when they discussed men. Suddenly everything between them was different, for her at least; she could not look at him without blushing, she could not even pass by him in the hall without something fluttering deep inside at the thought of brushing against him. And just like now, she could not happen upon him without staring openly and wondering, just what would it be like…

"Are you going to lurk behind me the entire night Misao?" His quiet voice surprised her, interrupting her thoughts. 

Her heart began to race at the mere sound of his voice, shaky and nervous Misao found she couldn't raise her voice to speak or prompt her feet into action. At her failure to move Aoshi turned to look over his shoulder at her, his blue eyes barely visible beneath his dark hair that fell over them.

"Misao?" The concerned question in his voice propelled her into motion, she descended the steps and moved on hesitant feet to join Aoshi, taking the empty space he indicated beside him. She should have realized that he would sense her there, her eyes had been on him too long and her thoughts so filled with him; she would have been easy to detect.

They sat silent for some time, Misao trying to hide the nervous fluttering that his nearness invoked and appear as though things were just as they had always been between them, Aoshi was lost in his own thoughts which she could not even guess at. Her eyes drifted over his blue-black hair as a light breeze ruffled the silken strands. How she wished to run her fingers through those fine threads, to gently brush the veil of his hair aside and get a glimpse of those beautiful eyes of his, just as she had used to do as a child. The small smile the memory produced faded immediately as the picture her mind created was anything but that of a child. Misao swallowed hard and fought down the obvious blush she could feel creeping up her neck and spreading over her face. She had dreamed of him, or rather of herself standing before him as he sat on this very bench. Her hands cupping his face, his arms around her waist pulling her closer, his face lifted in anticipation as her lips descended toward his. She quickly lowered her gaze and not unlike Aoshi, the hair not contained by her braid fell forward and partially covered her face from anyone who might see. 

"What brings you out here at this hour?" Aoshi asked breaking the silence with his quiet voice. "Is something troubling you or has the heat simply made you restless?"

"I… I was hoping to cool off." Misao stammered glancing up briefly at his question catching the slightest bit of blue revealed from behind his hair. She looked away again immediately, the whole situation was making her more confused and uncomfortable, her own feelings, her inability to deal with them and now, he must have noticed she was not herself tonight, as well as all those other times. Normally it was her who broke the long silences between them with her questions or prattle about nothing in particular.

Misao reprimanded herself silently for her wandering thoughts as she noticed Aoshi staring at her intently and she quickly stammered out a few words in an attempt to cover for her strange behavior. "I… it was very… uh… stifling in my room… the entire Aoiya actually."

"Aa." He agreed nodding slowly still watching her.

She once again lowered her eyes; her fingers busy with the end of her braid, a nervous habit she had long held onto which now served to occupy traitorous hands that longed to touch him. What would he think if she gave into that desire, if she simply reached up and brushed the tips of her fingers over his hair or caressed his cheek? She raised her eyes to steal another quick glance at him only to find him still staring at her with that odd intensity that made her look hurriedly away. 

"Misao what's wrong?" His concerned voice pulled her eyes back to his; she was about to tell him nothing was wrong when he reached out and pulled the end of her braid from her fingers. He stared at it with grave interest for several minutes taking up her ritual habit before her small gasp brought his eyes up to meet hers once again, that same intensity that had forced her to look away earlier kept her from doing so this time. "Your childhood habits have not changed."

He had always been able to read her so easily. Normally she would have been pleased at such a sign that he knew her so well, that they were so close she could keep nothing from him; now however, it only served to validate fears she'd refused to admit and now had no choice but to do so. It wasn't her newly discovered feelings that frightened and confused her so much. What did frighten and confuse her was that Aoshi might not return them, not even that really, more that he could not return them to someone he still viewed as a child. She had shunned all attempts made by Okon and Omasu to get her to act more lady like and dress in a kimono, preferring to practice with Hanya or go on assignment. She still preferred those things and did not believe she needed a kimono for anyone to notice that she was a woman, let alone someone as observant as Aoshi. Still, he had never made any acknowledgment that she was an adult and why would he when she continued to behave just as she always had? His words could not have been more accurate… 'Your childhood habits have not changed.' It was true, they hadn't, but she _could_ change that. 

Lost in his pale eyes that remained partially hidden by his hair, her acknowledgment of her fears and her resolve to overcome them took action as she gave into her earlier temptation and lifted her hand toward his face. He seemed not to notice or chose to ignore the movement of her hand. Or so she thought until, her fingertips were mere inches from his face, the firm grasp of his hand around her wrist halted any further advancement. Time stopped for a long, silent moment and Misao held her breath as his eyes bore into hers, his expression as always, unreadable, remaining so even when she felt his fingers loosening and the slow movement of his thumb as he began to caress small circles on her wrist. Nor did his expression change when she felt his gentle fingers slowly move up the back of her hand, over the tips of her fingers and down again to her palm mimicking his thumb by tracing small circles into her sensitive skin there. Misao shivered lightly at the sensation of his touch, her eyes widened when he slipped his fingers between hers and grasping her hand he began to pull her closer. She was vaguely aware of his other hand on her shoulder, gently urging her toward him as well and as if from a wonderful dream she felt the softness of his lips brush the corner of her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed as his mouth on hers continued to weave a magic spell, both of them growing more eager, more persistent with each pass. Misao felt the odd sense of being weightless, of floating and only some small part of her subconscious was aware of her back being pressed into the stiff, wooden bench by Aoshi's torso, heavy upon hers. She whimpered against his insistent mouth, finally managing to pull her hands free, one from his grasp and the other trapped between them. Her shaking fingers delved into his silky hair, the feel of it like liquid running over her skin, cool and erotic.

A sudden rush of air, a lightness that was absent moments ago and fingers that now clutched at nothing left Misao momentarily startled. Aoshi had moved so quickly, shot away from her so fast that her brain had trouble keeping up with his movements. Her eyes fluttered open to find him several feet away from her, his eyes once more hidden behind the wisps of hair that her fingers still burned with the remembered feel of.

"Aoshi-sama?" She whispered in confusion, clumsily trying to sit upright and clear her head of the passionate haze that now clouded her.

"Gomen." He spoke quietly and turned away, taking a few steps then halting and looking back over his shoulder at her. "I cannot do this."

"What… what do you mean?" Her voice filled with humorless mirth as she self-consciously straightened her yukata, having shifted during their brief embrace and revealing more skin than was appropriate. "What has suddenly happened to make you incapable?"

She climbed to her feet as he continued to stare silently at her from over his shoulder. She looked about the garden wondering briefly if they were perhaps being observed, although she had not sensed anyone, her eyes found no one and she quickly dismissed this notion. Her eyes returned once more to where he stood, still watching her, then it hit her… perhaps he simply did not share her feelings; if that were true however, why the kiss then? That had certainly not been the reaction of a man who did not want to kiss her.

"I cannot be what you want me to be Misao." His quiet voice and just as quiet footsteps taking him away from her interrupted her thoughts. "I have been many things to you but I cannot be this, as much as I try to force myself, I cannot feel how you wish me to because to me you will always be that little girl I have always taken care of."

She made a move to go after him, her steps halting as did his and he turned around to face her. They stood for long moments in the silent garden of night, each of them watching the other. Misao could not miss his eyes traveling down to where her fingers had clutched onto the end of her braid in that same childish habit he'd accused her of earlier. It only seemed to compound his words… 'you will always be that little girl…' But there had been that kiss!

"I don't believe you!" Her voice raised and forceful as she took a confident step toward him, daring him to counter her. Like shattering glass Misao could feel her self-confidence splintering and falling to the ground as he stared back at her; cold, unmoving and brooking no argument. Her heart soon shattered as well. She had no argument, nothing further to say as the look in his eyes told her everything and she resigned herself, lowering her gaze to feign interest in some minuscule object on the ground.

"Forgive me Misao." She heard but did not acknowledge and at the soft sound of his footsteps leading him away her tears began to fall; silent and endless.

Neither the sultry air nor her warm tears could keep the chill from spreading through her body, making her shiver in reaction. She felt cold but did not find relief in it as she'd sought earlier, after what seemed like hours Misao wandered back into the Aoiya and up to her room. She stood at the window and stared sightlessly out at the silent streets of Kyoto, much as she was doing now except now there were no tears, she had shed enough that night and the nights that followed.

She had not been angry with him, merely hurt and disappointed; how could she be angry with him, it wasn't through any fault of his own that he did not return her feelings, just as it was through no fault of hers that she loved him the way she did. It was difficult in the days that followed their encounter in the garden and Misao was determined not to make Aoshi uncomfortable and so she kept her distance, never once showing him her unrequited feelings. She made every effort to avoid him, gulping down her meals in record time when they were all gathered for dinner, anytime she entered a room and he was there she would hastily retreat and stay away until she knew he was no longer present. She trained solely with Hanya, long and vigorous hours of training that would help relieve some of her overwrought emotions, not to mention improve her abilities by leaps and bounds.

As much as she made it a point to steer clear of Aoshi, Misao could not help feeling disappointed at him making no attempt to at least acknowledge what she was going through, he seemed content to leave her be however, and not a comforting word was uttered. It would be several weeks before Aoshi would make an effort to speak to her directly, to actually make an opportunity for the two of them to be able to talk in private. Even now remembering that day had the ability to send her temper flaring. She'd been so angry at what he'd said to her that she could still feel the tingling in her fingertips at the slap that she had wanted to deliver; her ingrained respect for his title as Okashira would not allow her to do so however.

Omasu had needed some items from the market and Misao had volunteered to go for her, it turned out to be far more than Misao could carry easily and the merchant's son, upon seeing her struggle with her packages offered his assistance. She and the other Oniwabanshu knew the merchant and his family; they frequented the Aoiya often for dinner. Kazuhiko had always been kind to her and being very near her own age the two of them found ample things to talk about on their short walk to the Aoiya. They stood near the entrance of the restaurant, Kazuhiko relating a funny story as Misao laughed heartily for the first time in what seemed like ages. Kazuhiko made a promise to see her tomorrow when he and his family came to the Aoiya for dinner, she thanked him for his help with the packages and he soon left. She stood at the doorway and watched him disappear into the crowded streets, turning away she entered the Aoiya, delivering Omasu's goods to her and then made her way to the training area.

"Misao." She halted at the sound of Aoshi's quiet voice from the shadows. "May I have a word with you?" 

She didn't want to talk to him; her heart still ached at the sound of his voice, not even that much, just thinking about him caused her pain. More than anything else she wanted to get over these feelings for him, to make things as they were before her betraying heart decided to fall in love with him. But he was still the Okashira and she owed it to him to listen to what he had to say.

"If you insist Aoshi-sama." She answered resignedly. 

He stepped from the shadows and stood before her, his figure imposing, his eyes as always hidden behind that curtain of blue-black hair. He seemed tense and she could only guess that he was uncomfortable after what had happened between them in the garden.

"I would ask that you not fraternize with the merchant's son." His voice, quiet yet stern and his words the last she would have expected.

Misao didn't know what to do or say, she was so completely taken by surprise that she could form no reply, only stand and stare dumbfounded. She could tell that Aoshi was waiting for her acquiescence to his request and when she offered none he continued, his next words surprising her even more.

"You are going to give the young man and other's the wrong impression." 

__

Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? She wondered. _That Kazuhiko was interested in her as a woman, that people thought she and Kazuhiko were a couple?_ The idea had never crossed her mind but what if it were true, what would be so bad about that? She had been happy talking to Kazuhiko, had forgotten her broken heart, if only for a moment, in his company. It would be best for her and Aoshi if she got over her feelings for him and she could see no reason why she should not make every attempt to do just that. Besides that, how she conducted herself was no longer his concern, she was an adult, if he failed to see her as such that was his problem.

"I fail to see how anyone would get the wrong impression Aoshi-sama." With that Misao stepped around him and continued toward the training room.

"People of his class are ill-bred and generally not to be trusted." Aoshi's words stopped her in her tracks and she turned to stare at him, total disbelief at what she was hearing. "You are not meant for the likes of him."

Misao would have never believed it if she had not heard him utter the words herself; Aoshi had never been unjust, his honor had always meant so much to him. But apparently that was no longer the case and anger boiled through her at the very thought of Aoshi placing such a label on another simply because of their line of work.

"Let me get this straight." She marched up to him barely able to contain her anger as she spoke. "I offer myself to you but you're too good for me and now that I may consider offering myself to another he's not good enough?"

Aoshi's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits but he remained silent.

"I am an adult Aoshi-sama." Her voice climbing by margins. "Do not dare to choose with whom I associate."

"And you do not dare to bring ruin to your grandfather's name." His voice a deadly whisper.

Misao's hand twitched, the muscles in her arm spasmed as she refrained from delivering what was certainly a most deserved slap across his face. She met his equally angry eyes that told her he knew; he could read her so well that he knew she had wanted to slap him and this only served to increase her anger ten-fold.

"Excuse me." She muttered through tightly clenched teeth and turning away from him she made her way to the training room and a waiting Hanya who suffered all her angry blows in silence, letting her vent her frustration over the argument he knew had taken place, having caught the end of it.

Misao sighed heavily as she stood at her window; the oppressive heat of summer was gone as Kyoto was completely engulfed in the throws of autumn. There was a chill in the air now when the sun dropped below the horizon and soon the chill would command the day as well. Winter was fast approaching and it only seemed to reflect Misao's own feelings with the constant gray skies and its bitter cold climate.

=====================================================================================

Again, sorry for ending it where I did but I wasn't getting anywhere with it and wanted to start with a fresh new chapter and hope that somehow clears my writers block or overworked brain syndrome. 


	3. koigokoro... Awakening Love part 3

Disclaimers: Watsuki's

Disclaimers: Watsuki's!

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We have seen a flood of tears from the people

of grief.

With a roar we have seen the deluge engulf

one thousand homes of luck.------------Nabi.

"Come on Misao." Shiro shouted to her as the last launch of the swing lifted her nearly to the point of the highest branches. He stepped back and held his arms out growing smaller as she continued to climb into the sky. "Show me you can still fly!"

Misao had spied the swing hanging listlessly from the old maple tree upon reaching the hilltop, having forgotten about it until that very moment. She and Shiro had started out that morning and with each step her remembered fondness of the place where they had played as children filled her heart. She could remember clearly sitting atop Hanya's shoulders as he whisked her along the trail through the forest, the others alongside or following close behind. They came mostly in the spring and summer, enjoying the hillsides covered with wildflowers, the cool breeze of the mountain air shifting the tall grasses and flower stalks like waves in the sea. She'd been here a few times in the autumn, the tall evergreens, majestic and still cloaked in their deep color alongside the blazing red and gold of those that would soon be bare of their leaves in the onset of winter. 

This trip up she'd been too late to even enjoy that much, frost now covered the faded yellow grass that she and Shiro had trudged through and the tips of the evergreens were brushed with the white of frost as well. The frost would dissipate once the sun rose a little higher in the sky she knew. They had set out on their journey early, just after the sun had risen, Okon and Omasu helped them pack some food to eat as they intended to be out the entire afternoon.

She raced for the swing upon seeing it and after a brief test of her weight against the old, weather worn ropes that still held it suspended from the sturdy branch, she climbed on. She gave herself a small push with her feet that barely managed to get her moving. Shiro, whom she'd left behind in her race to reach the swing, soon joined her and obliged by pushing her.

Misao's mood had been somber when their walk began, her head still filled with Aoshi. She'd been serious when she'd asked Hanya last night how one knew they were in love, she simply wasn't sure anymore. Lately, with the way he treated her and talked to her it seemed as if she almost hated him. His comments about her and Kazuhiko and his continued uncaring almost callous treatment of her feelings left her hurt, angry and convinced she harbored no soft spot in her heart for him any longer. She firmly believed it or at least she had, until several days ago when she came upon Okon and Omasu talking and laughing. They were in the kitchen, making dinner preparations by the sounds emanating through the doorway and discussing her as a child; Misao hid behind the door and listened, feeling wistful as they recalled the past. 

"She was the tiniest thing." Omasu commented giggling.

"Hai." Okon agreed. "I remember she used to hide under my kimono and no one would be any wiser."

Misao snickered as the two women laughed at their memories.

"Except…" Misao perked up as she heard the distinctive timbre of Aoshi's voice, she had missed everything he'd said after that one word, the rest lost in the laughter of the other two.

__

What was he doing there anyhow? She scowled her brows furrowing. _Trying to influence other's with his bad impression of her?_ She wanted to barge in and demand that he not mention her again, he could think of her as he wished but she would not allow him to poison other's opinions of her simply because he was an ass.

"What was that Aoshi-sama?" Omasu's voice prompted him to repeat himself and Misao listened intently once more, just waiting for him to say it and give her the opportunity to pounce on him.

"I said, except her eyes." His soft voice gentle and kind just as she used to hear him speak to her. "She's always had the biggest, blue eyes, even as a child."

"Sou da, Sou da." Okon agreed with him. "Everyone always commented on what beautiful eyes she had… 'Oh what a beautiful child' they would all say."

"She was beautiful." Omasu stated as if there could be no other conclusion and people had no choice but to comment on something that was plainly true.

"She still is." She heard Aoshi's quiet voice again, her breath caught and her eyes rounded to the size of rice bowls. Chairs were scraping against the wooden floor, footsteps moving away from her and into another part of the kitchen. "Very beautiful."

Overhearing this small exchange left her confused beyond belief; she'd been so convinced that she hated him, only to have him pierce her heart with this, then to pierce it yet again with his behavior last night. Her heart was indeed in turmoil. Shiro had made mention of her somber mood and asked what was troubling her, feeling slightly guilty for subjecting him to her ill-behavior she reprimanded herself silently and then made herself lively and focused on enjoying the outing.

They talked of many things as he continued to push her on the swing, each of them recalling their separate memories of the place they had rediscovered today. Of Okina's many antics and Beshimi's many tricks he played on the younger Oniwabanshu, namely her, Shiro and Kuro. She certainly made a conscious effort not to touch upon the one subject that so continuously occupied her thoughts but was not certain that it worked as Shiro seemed to cast several strange glances at her. 

"Hey, let's see how high you can get." Shiro's voice accompanied by a hefty shove that lifted her higher made her laugh and her enthusiasm kept him pushing her higher and higher.

Time shifted and Misao was suddenly eight years old again and another mans voice called to her, 'show me you can fly Misao,' another man stood on the grass below, the sunlight painting his black hair blue, his arms lifted as he waited for her to jump. 'I will not let you fall.'

Misao gave into the temptation, letting go of the ropes she leapt from the seat; this had been her favorite when she was younger. She loved the thrill of that brief moment where she continued to ascend without the swing lifting her, the air rushing past, lifting her braid behind her as gravity took over and she started to plunge, the anxiety of landing safely in the strong arms that waited to catch her.

It dawned on her, almost too late, that although she was still rather light she was no longer the light as a feather child she had once been and would not be so easy to catch as before, not without causing someone a great deal of pain. She spread her arms and legs wide, pulling a full body twist then a double somersault to land a tad unsteadily on her feet in front of Shiro.

"I said I would catch you." He laughed as his hands quickly grasped her waist, steadying her as she stumbled slightly. "Didn't you trust me?"

"Well." She joined in his laughter, carelessly brushing the hair from in front of her eyes. "I just didn't want to knock you off your feet. I've grown a great deal since the last time I did this after all."

There was a long silence as Misao tucked her hair behind her ears and then she felt Shiro's hands tighten about her waist, she froze when his fingers spread wide in a touch that was overtly intimate.

"Indeed you have grown Misao." His husky whisper made her look up at him sharply, her eyes widening at his meaning. "You've grown into a very beautiful woman."

"Shiro-kun…" She gasped quietly in surprise at the desire in his eyes and in his voice. Misao thought her heart might break at having to bestow on him those same painful feelings that Aoshi had on her. She loved Shiro to be sure, however, it was not the kind of love that she and Hanya had been talking of, the kind that made two people one.

"Shiro-kun." She whispered again not knowing what to say, how to begin. She didn't have to say anything more as she watched the change in his eyes, the sad look that he conveyed. He understood her completely and although he released his hold on her waist he brought one hand up to cup her cheek, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth as his thumb moved slowly over her skin.

"Do not berate yourself for feeling a certain way Misao." He told her softly brushing back a small lock of hair that fell across her forehead. "I do not blame you. The heart seems to have a mind of its own and loves who it wants despite all its master's protests."

Misao gasped her eyes widening yet again at his words, '…loves who it wants despite its master's protests…' how true, how unfair and how completely blind she must be to not have realized it until this very moment. It did not matter all the hurtful words that Aoshi said to her, it did not matter if he saw her as a child or not, her heart had made up its own mind. It was just as Hanya had told her the night before, you cannot explain how you know, you just know and suddenly, she did know and with a finality that brooked no argument. She loved Aoshi; she would always love Aoshi.

She turned to look back at the swing, feeling Shiro's hand drop away as she did so, she could see herself swinging in it again, Aoshi standing below, beckoning her with his open arms and she could hear his voice. 'Show me you can fly Misao, I will not let you fall'.

__

It's too late Aoshi-sama. She thought silently. _I've already fallen._

"Misao dooshite?" She jumped slightly at Shiro's question, reprimanding herself silently for being so selfish, at dwelling on her own feelings rather than considering his. Misao turned back around to face him, her eyes filling with tears as she read the concern in his.

"Gomen ne Shiro-kun." She apologized wrapping her arms around him as he pulled her toward him in a gentle embrace. "I am so sorry."

"Don't cry Misao." He told her as he gently patted her head. "As I said, it cannot be helped."

She nodded her agreement and sniffed making every attempt not to let her tears spill over. She did not want to cry like a little girl, she had done enough of that over Aoshi. Gathering her courage she stepped back and smiled up at Shiro who was happy to see her smiling again.

"Let's enjoy the rest of the day, ne?" He asked her.

"Un." She nodded in agreement and the two of them spent the rest of the morning and afternoon exploring their old playground. Misao coaxed him into getting onto the swing while she tried her best to push him, although her slight build did not allow her the ability to lift his heavy frame much. 

The mid afternoon sun was weakening in the sky as the two ninja's neared the Aoiya, their return home made in relative silence as they were both lost in the pleasant memories of the day. They had not quite reached the road, still making their way through the forest when Shiro's calling her name made her stop and turn back to look at him.

"Dooshite Shiro-kun?" She asked frowning at the concerned look on his face. When he continued to hesitate she walked back to where he stood. "What is it?"

"Some advice." He spoke hesitantly after several moments of silence, his voice quiet. "Kazuhiko-san… he is a nice young man and his gentleness would suit you well…"

"Shikashi…" Misao waited as he paused yet again, taking several moments before he resumed with his advice. "Your heart vies for the affections of another I think… and if… if it's Aoshi-sama let me caution you against it. I do not wish to see you hurt Misao."

She was at a loss; was she really so transparent? And if Shiro could see it could everyone else see it as well. Hanya's straightforward question last night, _'Misao-chan, are you in love with Aoshi-sama?'_ led her to believe that it was possible. She could not bear having everyone pity her and her desperate need for a scrap of Aoshi's affection, like a dog waiting to be thrown a morsel from its master's dinner. It would be better if they all believed her to be in love with Kazuhiko, it would be better for her if she made herself love him, in whatever capacity that might be, she already liked him a great deal that surely counted for something. Yes, the sooner she dispelled these thoughts people had about her and Aoshi the better.

"What are you talking about." Misao half laughed, attempting incredulity in an effort to alleviate his concern and change the subject. "I'm nothing but a little kid in Aoshi-sama's eyes."

Silence permeated the air around them for several minutes as his eyes bore into hers. What he was looking for Misao could not tell.

"I will not pretend to always know what the Okashira is thinking Misao." Shiro answered back a serious note present in his voice. "But Aoshi-sama's powers of observation are beyond anyone… and he has certainly known, long before anyone else, that you are not a child."

Misao wasn't sure how to feel about this idea; if this were true and Aoshi did accept her as an adult, maybe his telling her that he did not was his way of being kind. By telling her he could never see her as anything other than the little girl he had always known it allowed her the dignity of not being rejected as a woman. She didn't know which she would prefer more; to be seen as nothing more than a child in his eyes or to have him acknowledge that she was a woman, to know that he realized this and it made no difference, he still did not want her. It was a bitterly painful truth to swallow.

For the second time that day Misao was speechless, she could only gaze back as Shiro stared at her for a long time in silence; both of them still until he lifted his hand and brushed back a stray lock of her hair, much as he had done earlier. Her eyes widened as his face descended toward hers and she held her breath until she felt the light brush of his mouth against her cheek, soft, kind and chaste.

"I know it is not me that has your heart Misao." He whispered next to her ear. "Please make certain whoever you do give it to will appreciate it as much as I would have."

"Arigato Shiro-kun." She hugged him briefly and the two quickly resumed their walk, reaching the Aoiya in a few minutes.

After unpacking the few items she had brought along with her on their outing, Misao went to her room. Omasu upon seeing how stiffly she walked from her earlier exertions insisted that she soak in the bath for a while to relieve some of the soreness, sending Kuro out to get the water warm for her. Omasu did not fail to mention that Misao should get cleaned up while she was at it. Misao put up very little protest, actually looking forward to it as she stripped off her clothes and dressed in the yukata that Omasu handed her. She made her way through the Aoiya with the older woman following close behind lecturing her the entire way about her wild behavior, being kinder to herself and looking more ladylike. The same things she heard nearly everyday from either her or Okon, Misao quietly ignored it, too tired to argue she knew it would stop at the door when she stepped outside to make her way over to the bath. She sighed in relief at the silence of Omasu's harping; her breath appearing in the chill air seemed to illustrate her relief further. She slipped her feet into her small geta and made her way around the back of the Aoiya, oblivious to her surroundings as she thought about what Shiro had said about whom she gave her heart to. But it was too late for her, she had given her heart already to someone who neither appreciated it nor wanted it. The only thing she could do now is try to find happiness without her heart or what remained of it. 

"Misao." She stiffened at the sound of Aoshi's voice addressing her, commanding her to turn around. Slowly she turned to face him, noticing immediately the same disapproving glare she had seen last night. She gathered her feelings under the protective layer she had developed against this man, her own eyes narrowing to match his angry glare, she refused to make any verbal acknowledgment and waited for him to continue with what he had to say. "Where have you been all day?"

"Shiro and I…" That was as far as she got before he cut her off.

"I warned you about disgracing your father's name." He snapped and took a menacing step toward her. "About giving people the wrong impression, didn't' I?"

Misao's eyes grew wide and she took a step back suddenly afraid of the rage reflected in his eyes. She could only shake her head in denial until suddenly finding her voice, "I… I didn't…we…" she stuttered in her defense only to be cut off by his harsh words once again.

"I saw the two of you in the forest a short while ago." He ground out angrily. "Either learn to control yourself or learn to be more discreet."

Misao's fear of Aoshi's rage vaporized in the eruption of her own anger, her entire body trembled as she fought to contain it. She struggled with herself over the violent reaction she so wanted to indulge in, feeling it would be much wiser for her to simply get away from him and allow herself to cool down as opposed to attacking him while wearing nothing but her geta and yukata. Not to mention, as good as she was, Aoshi could wipe the floor with her in a matter of seconds. Misao took a deep calming breath; exhaled and turned away from the angry, overbearing, Okashira. She pulled open the door to the bathhouse, stepped inside and let it close noisily behind her, putting an end to their conversation. The steam rising from the warm water never looked so inviting but the small smile it brought to her mouth soon disappeared as the door slammed open and hit the wall, Aoshi having flung it nearly off its hinges stepped inside.

"Don't you dare walk away when I'm talking to you." His quiet voice harsh and unforgiving only served to flame that anger she fought so hard to control. He stepped closer but this time she held her ground, raising her chin defiantly at the imposing frame that would send so many others scurrying away whimpering without him uttering a word. But not her, not this time.

"My time is my own Okashira." She spat at him angrily her voice raising with each word she spoke. "If you have official business to discuss with me then I suggest you call a meeting, if not then get out!"

Silence filled the air, punctuated only by the occasional drip of condensation that collected on the ceiling of the bathhouse, grew too heavy and splashed into the water below. Angry ice blue locked with deep azure that were equally so, both refusing to concede this battle, both daring the other to continue. The battle of wills might have gone on forever if Hanya's voice had not called Aoshi away on a matter of Oniwabanshu business, even then he appeared to hesitate before his duty called him away. 

Misao nearly collapsed with relief after the fading sound of his footsteps disappeared all together. She was tired of this emotional roller coaster he put her through just so her grandfather's name wasn't disgraced. She had done nothing that anyone could reproach her with, even if that kiss that Shiro had given her had been anything more than a peck on the cheek. 

Misao tested the temperature of the water with her toe and pulled the clasp from her braid, unraveling the thick locks with her fingers. She untied her sash, shrugged out of her yukata and dropping it on the bench behind her along with her clasp stepped into the steaming bath. It was then that her resolve crumbled and tears welled in her eyes then spilled over and streamed down her cheeks, soon to mingle with the warm bath water. She tried to still her shoulders, shaking as she sobbed, making the water ripple around her. She could not say how long she sat there, the warm water was comforting in a sense and Misao was so lost in the water's warm embrace that she failed to notice the footsteps that moved across the path toward the bathhouse. Nor did she sense the presence of the one who hesitated for long moments outside the bathhouse door before moving away. Just as he often did outside her bedroom door at night; the reassuring sense of her at rest one of the few indulgences he allowed himself to have.

"Misao hayaku!" Okon's voice intruded on her thoughts as she stood staring at the many items on display from the west, one in particular had caught her eye a small book of poetry, imagining Aoshi might enjoy such a gift. At the sound of Okon again hurrying her along, now joined by Omasu, Misao turned away to join her friends, wondering at how her thoughts always seemed to return to him. The three of them strolled along, Misao feeling awkward in the unfamiliar feel of the kimono she wore, having submitted to the pleadings of the other two and donned one on this special day out for the Oniwabanshu women. They were to spend the morning shopping, the New Year celebration was fast approaching and they had all agreed to exchange gifts this year. They were almost finished, Okon and Omasu trying to decide what they should get for Okina and Misao had still not figured out a gift for Aoshi, everything that caught her eye seemed entirely too personal. The two of them had grown even more distant than before after the night at the bathhouse. A coldness had developed between them that rivaled the chill of winter now upon them. It was proving a very difficult task to find him a gift under the circumstances. She had thought of a particular book she had heard of but even that seemed to be too intimate.

"Misao." Okon diverted Misao's attention from her thoughts once more as she focused on the older woman pointing ahead of them as she spoke. "There's Kazuhiko's shop, let's stop in there."

Misao nodded and the three of them made their way up the street to the small shop, before they reached it the soft melody of an instrument Misao could not recall hearing before drifted out of the shop. It was lovely and the three of them exchanged glances before shrugging their shoulders and stepping in through the doorway, the sound growing louder as they did. They were greeted by Kazuhiko's father and beyond him at the back of the shop; perched upon a tall chair they could see Kazuhiko. He held a small stringed instrument tucked between his chin and shoulder and the short staff he stroked across the strings produced the sweet sounds that drew their attention.

Misao was captivated, not only by the sound of the instrument but just watching Kazuhiko play. It was as if he were enamored with the instrument, no that wasn't right, more like he was lost in it, as if his world consisted entirely of the miracle created from wood and wire. He was not unlike Aoshi with his kodachi, during practice or during a fight, Aoshi was one with his weapon of choice and when he wielded them there was nothing else in the world with him.

At the loud outburst of his father's laughter Kazuhiko looked up; she smiled at him when their eyes met and he pulled the instrument away from his chin, climbed to his feet and approached them. Misao could kill Okon and Omasu for flirting with the old man, bringing to an end Kazuhiko's music.

"Ladies." He bowed lightly before them. "Ohayo gozaimasu."

"Kazuhiko-kun." Okon's giggling flirtatious voice grating on Misao's nerves. "That was absolutely lovely music you were playing."

"Thank you." He replied blushing lightly.

"What do you call that instrument?" It was Omasu's turn to simper and Misao thought that the two of them could never have been more embarrassing than at this moment. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"It's called a violin." He explained holding it up for their inspection, Misao leaned closer, and she was amazed, it looked like nothing more than a toy. "Would either of you ladies like to try it?"

"Oh no… not us." The two of them replied in unison while giggling even more and hiding coyly behind the sleeves of their Kimono. "But perhaps Misao-chan would like to?" 

I'm going to kill them when we get home. Misao declared silently as Kazuhiko turned toward her and smiled, prompting her with a question in his voice as he said her name. She smiled back, trying to fight back the embarrassment of the two idiots who were winking and grinning like fools at her now that they were out of his line of sight. 

She nodded her head and took the instrument from him as he handed it to her. It was surprisingly light, she didn't know why she expected it to be heavier, maybe because she could not believe anything so small and inconsequential could make such an impact with its sound. She rest it on her shoulder and placed her chin on it as he instructed. She listened and watched as he gave direction on how to glide the bow, as he called it, forward and back across the strings. Although she was certain she was doing exactly as he instructed the sound that came from the instrument as she attempted to play was more like a cry from a sick calf than anything else. She could see the cringing faces of Omasu and Okon and although Kazuhiko politely tried to hide his, it was quite obvious he believed even a tone deaf could play better.

"Gomen." She muttered quietly, disappointed, then handed it back to him as she laughed at herself. "I'm afraid I lack the talent."

"No, no." He waved her off laughing and stepping closer. "You merely lack the practice, you don't honestly think I played that well the first time I picked it up do you?"

From what she had heard earlier of his playing Misao doubted that he ever played anything so off key, even the first time he played the instrument. This was confirmed when his father suddenly interjected with a comment that Kazuhiko had a natural talent in music that few could boast and his son, obviously unused to such praise suddenly had a tinge of pink appear across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Misao laughed lightly at his discomfort as did Okon and Omasu.

"I will leave the playing to the expert then." Misao tried to hand the violin off to him again, to which he shook his head.

"I can show you." He told her sensing her disappointment. "If you like."

"I would love it!" She agreed heartily her head turning as he moved to stand behind her covering each of her hands with his own he stepped closer and Misao suddenly became uncomfortable at how close he was standing to her.

__

'…learn to be more discreet or learn to control yourself.' Aoshi's words from before filling her head, she knew he would feel the same about how she was now standing in the arms of Kazuhiko whom he had already warned her to stay away from. To hell with Aoshi and his warnings! She thought silently. She was enjoying herself and there was no reason she should feel guilty about what she was doing. She liked Kazuhiko and who knew, maybe she actually could find happiness with someone like him, if he loved her, maybe…

"Rest the violin on your shoulder Misao-san." He instructed, as always his voice light and gentle and she did as he told her. "Do not press too hard with your chin, the idea is to be relaxed."

He then placed her fingers in specific places across the strings covering them with his own and then rearranged the bow so she held it with a proper grip the two of them laughing when she nearly dropped it. She could feel his chest pressed against her back and his warm breath ruffling a few strands of her hair, it was not a wholly unpleasant feeling. The thunderbolt of electricity she felt when Aoshi had held her close was not there but she felt she could learn to look forward to Kazuhiko's nearness. She did not want to experience what she had felt in Aoshi's arms again, she didn't care for the state it left her in when it was denied her later, it was far too painful, even now.

When she pushed the bow across the strings, this time with the aid of Kazuhiko and drew it back again Misao nearly squealed in delight. Kazuhiko tried to keep playing with her hands and his but she had grown too excited and fidgety at having it sound, not as good as they had heard him play but certainly better than her first attempt, he was forced to give up. 

"Yatta Misao-chan, that was much better." Omasu cheered and they all laughed.

Misao turned and thanked Kazuhiko, showering him with praise as she handed the violin and bow back to him, smiling at his sudden shyness when he'd been only moments ago standing closer to her than any man had save one. He mumbled a quick incoherent excuse and walked to the back of the store, returning sometime later without his violin to stand beside his father. Okon and Omasu were looking over a gift that the two of them considered buying for Okina while Misao was quietly inspecting a small wooden box that had caught her eye. It was plain but polished to a smooth matte finish and very finely crafted.

"Why don't you open it up." Kazuhiko's quiet voice beside her made her jump, she looked at him and he nodded toward the box. "Go ahead."

Hesitantly she lifted lid on the box and immediately heard the familiar musical notes that Kazuhiko had played on his violin earlier. She smiled up at him and picked the box up to inspect it closer.

"It's from Europe." He told her before she could ask. "From France I believe."

"And the melody you were playing earlier?" She asked. "Was that from Europe as well?"

"Aah." She nodded as he confirmed what she had already guessed.

"It's very beautiful." She set the box back down. "But it's not what I'm looking for."

"Having trouble finding the right gift for someone?" He asked her.

"Hai." She answered her frustration showing through in her voice. "If I could just find this one gift then I will have everyone in the Aoiya covered for New Year."

"It must be for someone very special to give you so much trouble." 

She forced a slight smile as she nodded. _If you only knew_. she thought silently.

"Well… I don't know if this will help but." He advised. "It's been my experience that the first gift you consider for a person is usually the best one to get them."

"I wish I could be so sure." She replied quietly.

"Don't worry Misao-san." She looked up and met his cheerfully smiling face. "I'm sure any person lucky enough to be so much in your thoughts will love whatever you get them."

He spoke with such sincerity, she only wished her heart could appreciate the words rather than dwelling on the fact that Aoshi may well indeed love the gift she gave him but he would not love her_. Would Kazuhiko?_ She wondered, her thoughts taking on a completely different turn as looked at his kind smile and warm brown eyes. If he did, would it be fair to indulge in that love with her heart so resolutely set on another?

"Tell me." His voice intruded quietly upon her thoughts. "What did you first think of as a gift?"

"A book." She answered after a few moments, pushing away the thoughts that were spinning around in her head that moment. "A translation of western poetry… from England."

"Sou ka." He nodded then lifting his hand he indicated the area at the back of the store. "We have several translated works from England if you'd like to look."

She followed as he led the way and as he said there were several volumes; classics they were called that someone in her own country had considered worth the effort of translating. She scanned the titles until she came across the one she'd passed up several times at other shops earlier that same morning. She pulled it from the shelf and opened the first page.

"Sonnets?" Kazuhiko queried from over her shoulder.

"Hai." Misao answered absently as she turned another page. "William Shakespeare."

She fingered the pages carefully, turning them slowly; just glimpsing at the characters boldly scrawled across the paper. This was the perfect gift for Aoshi; her shopping was finished.

"You were right." She turned and smiled cheerfully at Kazuhiko handing him the book indicating that she would buy it. 

Taking the book from her Kazuhiko nodded and she followed him to the counter where Okon and Omasu stood with his father, who was now wrapping up their purchases, having found more to spend money on than simply Okina's gift. Misao handed her money to Kazuhiko who then wrapped the book up and handed it back to her.

"Kazuhiko." His father called him, drawing everyone's attention. "Why don't we wrap up a few of those sweets that Francois brought us from Europe, I'm sure these ladies would enjoy them."

As Kazuhiko disappeared through the back Misao thanked his father quietly while Okon and Omasu gushed their appreciation in another embarrassing scene. Misao sighed and rolled her eyes, she could not believe the number of men who fell for this kind of thing, finding their brazen behavior charming.

They were soon on their way back to the Aoiya and once again Kazuhiko had insisted on helping them with their packages. He hung back with Misao who, unused to wearing the kimono that limited her stride and the geta, walked at a much slower pace than Okon and Omasu.

"Tell me." Misao asked. "Where did you get that instrument and who in Japan would know to teach you how to play?"

"I can understand your curiosity." He answered chuckling. "It was given to me as a gift when I was a child. A European gentleman, in trade with my father stayed with us for sometime and it belonged to him. He taught me how to play and when he returned to Europe he left it in my care, with the promise that I would continue to play it whenever I could."

"And you did?" She prompted him.

"Everyday." He told her then gave a short laugh. "I must say he was very surprised at how well I could play when he came back a few years later." 

Misao looked up at him, there was something in his voice barely noticeable behind the laughter but she detected it. Very few things got by her ears which were far more sensitive than most.

"You had surpassed your teacher by then?" She asked and he looked at her sharply no doubt surprised at what she had guessed. 

"He told me he knew that I would be great." Kazuhiko answered wistfully. "He knew it the first moment I started to play. He said I could be the best ever and play in all the great halls over Europe if I chose to."

"And do you choose to?" Misao asked.

He was silent for several moments and Misao thought he wasn't going to answer her. When he spoke she could feel his disappointment.

"My choices have already been made for me Misao-san." He spoke quietly, resignedly and they walked on in silence until his voice filled the air again. "My father's business has become my own, it's my duty to do as he wishes."

Not knowing what to say Misao merely nodded as they walked on. Her mind raged at the injustice of Kazuhiko being denied the one thing he was perhaps born to do and forced into a role that he did not want. How bitter that must be, to know exactly what you wanted and know you can never have it, she was reminded of her feelings for Aoshi; she quickly cut off her train of thought in that direction.

"Fortunately your choice has not stopped you from playing when you can." She offered in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"My parents used to complain endlessly about it." He laughed without humor. "I told my father that I would give up my dream for his, that I had done what was expected of me as his son but I would not give up the violin."

Misao halted, their walk coming to an end having reached the Aoiya. Okon and Omasu thanked him again for carrying their packages and complimented him on his music as she had just done and then turned to go inside.

"I would like to hear you play again sometime Kazuhiko." She told him and meant it.

"I would enjoy playing for you again Misao-san." He smiled and blushed, bowing politely he stared at her for long moments as if he had more to say but did not know how, he then turned away, leaving Misao to stare after him as he disappeared down the street. 

Perhaps she could be happy with someone like Kazuhiko. She thought before turning away and entering the Aoiya. Perhaps…

********************************************************************************

I know, I know, not much of Aoshi in there, there will be in the next one I promise. Comments are always welcome as well as encouragement, I'm in desperate need of some, I am not feeling very inspired with this fic. 

William Shakespeare's Sonnets; I used this because of the time period, they were published long before Meiji Japan and well, why not, everyone should have the opportunity to read them. The violin? I have no idea when it was introduced into Japan, I just like how they sound, all romantic and melancholy


	4. koigokoro... Awakening Love part 4

We have seen countless swift riders __

We have seen countless swift riders

of this battlefield

Whose only remaining wealth is the life-taking

arrow of love's sigh. ------ Nabi.

Aoshi made his way through Okina's small garden; the vibrant colors of spring absent under winter's chill. His eyes were carefully averted from the bench that reminded him of a night he would wish to forget ever happened, his stride quickened, as if he could outrun the return of those memories, those feelings that he could not exorcise from within him. He reached for the small gate that would take him to the street at the front of the Aoiya and there she was, the one responsible for his unsettling feelings. She stood with her back to him, it did not matter, he would know her anywhere although it was odd seeing her in a kimono, something he could not recall her doing since she was a very small child. It was the same seeing her hair free from its ever-present braid, a small ribbon held it loosely between her shoulder blades and the long, dark, tresses cascaded in waves down her back.

Aoshi stepped back out of her line of sight as Misao turned to make her way into the Aoiya. She was breathtaking; the wistful look upon her face, everything about her made his pulse quicken. He really had no idea when she'd begun having this effect on him, it had happened so gradually he was in the middle of it before he realized it started. It was as if he'd looked away from her for only a moment and when he turned back to look at her again the girl he'd always known was gone, in her place was Misao the young woman and he'd not had a single moment's peace since. Everyday was a constant struggle, everything he did was overshadowed by his effort to control the discord of his emotions; from hurrying through the garden to avoid looking at the bench, forcing the memories of that night, not to mention the sight of her in the bathhouse. All of it was done in an attempt to rid himself of feelings that he did not understand and did not want. His efforts were in vain; he might fool himself into believing it was otherwise but when he was faced with the influence of her smile he could not help but face reality… he was losing this battle.

He wondered what it was that she'd been looking at and his eyes strayed up the expanse of the street where her eyes had been trained, his fingers clenching upon the wooden gate, his eyes narrowing angrily as he recognized the retreating form of Kazuhiko Ishida. His gaze returned to where she'd only moments ago been standing, his eyes narrowing further. He recalled the look on her face, the small smile that held so many secrets, secrets she had shared with Ishida.

__

You could have shared her secrets. The loathed voice in his head that he'd become accustomed to over these last several months reminded him. _You could have been her sun and moon, manipulated her every waking hour and with so little effort._

No! He shook his head angrily against the voice that plagued him. _I have no place for these unwanted emotions and I refuse to surrender to them. _

He wanted things as they were before, Aoshi had been happy in his ignorance; happy and in control or so he believed until that one night… that one night when his control had slipped and he had touched the silken strands of her braided hair. Once he had done this he was lost and as much as he fought against it he could not help but partake of her further by touching the soft skin of her hand and then her soft mouth. In a matter of seconds she was lying beneath him and the feel of her… even now was overwhelming. She was like a drug; the kind that once you tried it, life without it just wasn't the same and you had to come back for more; again and again and again. The drug would consume you, become part of you, in your blood, in your brain and in your heart… He'd been out of control, that was obvious and had been ready to remove her yukata all together when the feel of her trembling fingers in his hair jolted him back to sanity, or some semblance of it.

He shot away from her faster than he'd moved in his life, scrambling to find some excuse, any excuse for what had prompted him to act in such a manner. In a moment of desperation he convinced her and nearly himself that he didn't want her, playing on her biggest fears; wanting to take it back when he'd seen the hurt look in her eyes. It was done however and done for the best, Aoshi was able to gain some control, relegating his feelings for her into a confined corner of his heart and ignoring the dull ache inside him. He could not ignore it completely however and found himself on nightly rounds that brought him to her door, unable to keep that ache from consuming him, until he could hear the sound of her sleeping on the other side. Even this small indulgence could not keep the memory of that night at bay forever; the feelings he did not understand, accompanied by other outside factors did not make for lasting success and the dull ache soon became a sharp agony. One afternoon in particular he could recall put a deep and lasting crack in his armor of self-control. He had taken his tea at one of the empty tables of the nearly vacant Aoiya, relaxing and watching people meander by when he spotted Misao through the window. She was with Ishida, the two of them walking, talking and laughing together; the scene itself was enough to cause suspicion in him but when he overheard the comments of the two women at the table next to his.

"Look, it's Misao-chan." One of them spoke.

"Don't her and the merchant's young son make a handsome couple?" He heard the other one comment then continue in a voice lowered only slightly. "That young man only comes here to eat because she's here you know." 

The sound of their giggling and continued speculation was enough to drive Aoshi from his seat, he made his way through the kitchen only to overhear the same sentiments repeated by Okon and Omasu, although at a much more discreet decibel level than the two gossiping ladies in the restaurant. 

In his anger and frustration over her making him feel these unfamiliar and unwanted emotions, for making him feel... he had lashed out at her. He had said things to her which were completely out of line, things she did not deserve to be told and the fact that she could affect him so much that he could not reign in his anger frustrated him even further.

He knew she'd wanted to slap him for what he'd said to her, he knew her behavior toward Kazuhiko Ishida was purely innocent, despite the speculation that was being made about her. Even if the rumors had been true, he'd had no right to interfere, he knew of no evil concerning the young man, but jealousy had bit at him sharply and he was not rational at the time. He could feel the tension in her as she stood angrily before him, the way the muscles in her arm twitched at the reflex that would have been a natural reaction from any woman who was treated the way he had just treated her.

He found himself waiting for it, almost wanting her to do it, almost forming a silent prayer in his head. _'Kami-sama, please, if it means I can feel her skin against mine once more.'_ Aoshi didn't know what angered him more, his desperation and lack of control or the fact that she had denied him what he wanted when rather than slapping him she had excused herself and walked away. It was the same when he'd approached her at the bathhouse after seeing her and Shiro together. 

Pushing away from the fence and turning from where Misao had been standing Aoshi made his way back through the garden, his eyes falling immediately upon the bench he had so carefully avoided looking at earlier. He stopped mid-stride a tidal wave of memories filling him, his fists clenched tightly, digging into the palms of his hands as he angrily and unsuccessfully tried to subdue the desire he felt.

__

Damn her! He cursed silently. It was becoming too much for him and he needed an outlet; he needed to do something to rid himself of this, of these… feelings. An instant later an ideal outlet came to mind, Aoshi tore his eyes from the bench and determined to conquer these unwanted emotions he headed for his room to change into something more suitable and then on to the training room where he could exhaust himself practicing.

He moved down the hall in his usual near silent stride, the same way that they all moved throughout the Aoiya. Sliding back the shoji he was surprised to find nearly the same scene as he had outside just a short bit ago. Misao, with her back to him, the pale lavender kimono replaced by her Oniwabanshu uniform, her hair now bound in the intricate weave of her braid. He could not move and the voice in his head that told him to turn away, to run, went unheeded, as he no longer had the strength to deny himself, he'd depleted that when he'd seen her outside earlier. He stood and watched her, arms up high over her head as she stretched in preparation for her workout, her movements unknowingly sensual and hinting at the lithe, graceful body beneath her uniform. 

"You should know better than to keep me waiting Hanya." He could hear the teasing tone of her voice as she remained facing the opposite wall; it broke through the hypnotic state that her silence had held him in, letting him know that she hadn't simply been ignoring him as he thought. The voice in his head continued to warn him to turn away, to leave before it was too late and Aoshi, again choosing to ignore it stepped further into the room. He was here seeking an outlet to all his frustration wasn't he… what better way than to provoke the very one who had been the means of all that he'd been experiencing lately. She deserved some measure of torture after all he'd suffered on her behalf; one should never have to suffer alone.

"And you should have known I was not Hanya even before I opened this door." He spoke quietly and she gasped as she turned swiftly to face him, her eyes wide with surprise.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded, recovering quickly from her surprise; her eyes narrowing on him, her chin lifting defiantly not having the slightest clue how beautiful she was at that very moment.

He ignored his errant thought and raised an eyebrow at her, then glanced quickly at the sheathed kodachi he held in one hand before returning his eyes to hers. She looked momentarily embarrassed at her question in light of his obvious reasons for coming to the training room. Her eyes darting about the room before returning to meet his.

"Excuse me." She muttered as she walked past him, she was headed for the door and when it would have been better for him to let her leave, he scrambled for a means to keep her there. "When Hanya arrives let him know I'll come back when you're finished."

"We haven't sparred in quite some time Misao." He stepped further into the room, his suggestive tone stopping her before she could walk through the open door. "Perhaps I could stand in until Hanya arrives?"

Although they remained with their backs to each other Aoshi could almost feel her eyes narrowing mischievously, he could almost feel the desire to fight coming from her, still she hesitated. No matter, he knew exactly how to get her to commit, his mouth curved up at the corners briefly before he set his cool mask back in place.

"Of course." He added nonchalantly. "As always, I will take it easy on you."

That had done it, he swung his sheathed kodachi around to knock the flying kunai she had hurled at him with deadly aim and speed to the ground. He then twisted out of the way, just in time to avoid the foot heading straight at the side of his head and watch her land gracefully not far from him, her fists raised and ready to fight. 

He walked slowly, calmly to the wall, leaning his kodachi against it; he turned back to face her and took the few steps to close the distance between them. He took a relaxed, defensive stance to let her know that it was up to her to attack, which she did… many times. He could sense her frustration over not being able to connect with any of her strikes, if she threw a powerful kick he would be there to block it with his forearms, if she punched or swung her fist at him he would duck out of the way. She had gotten quicker; it was undeniable that she was faster as well as stronger than the last time they had done this. Hanya was doing his job well, she jumped into the air and over him to avoid the sweep of his legs, landing a few feet away, her chest heaving from the exertion of her last combination he waited.

He read her nervous glance as she realized she was being backed into the wall, her next move would be a fist or a foot straight at him to try and gain some distance from the wall and aid her in shifting direction. He could not miss her intention announcing it as she did, her fist transformed into a claw by the kunai she held between each finger raced straight at him. He sidestepped the deadly fist catching her wrist with his left hand he redirected her path across the front of her chest and into the wall where her kunai imbedded themselves. He held her fist there and stepped forward, pressing her back into the wall behind her; grabbing her other arm with his free hand before she could move, effectively trapping her.

"It would appear that the victory is mine." He spoke after allowing her to struggle for several moments until she realized she could not break free. Aoshi, was all too aware of her pulse hammering against his fingertips that held her wrist, the soft skin of her hand and he was all too aware that this had been what he'd wanted all along, since he'd stepped into this room after seeing her here. Before that even, always, this was always what he wanted. His eyes widened in momentary shock at his sudden realization of the truth; it wasn't that he didn't understand the feelings and emotions that she invoked in him, he understood completely and it was this that he feared so much. He had always been so completely in control of himself and now, he knew that his every move, his every thought could be dictated by her whim and yet… in that moment, he did not care. He still wanted her.

__

Foolish man! The hated voice that haunted him nearly as much as she did berated him. _You should be careful what you wish for._

As if too demonstrate his carelessness where Misao was concerned, Aoshi failed to notice until it was almost too late, the singing hiss of a blade slicing through the air. He turned and avoided the thrust of the kunai that Misao had pulled from her obi when he'd loosened his hold on her wrist. Still, he had not been quick enough, short wisps of his hair floated before his eyes and the telltale sting of a cut as thin as paper on his left cheek as it started to bleed let him know how fortunate he was. He could tell by the widening of her eyes and her echoing gasp that she was surprised at having managed to actually get through his defenses.

"Aoshi-sama!" Her voice matched her expression as she continued to stare and he could only do likewise. The kunai, which he had thought she had depleted her supply of earlier, disappeared behind her, no doubt being tucked back into her obi. 

__

Look what you have allowed to happen! The voice of reason shouted at him again. _Don't you realize the wounds this woman could inflict upon you!_

Aoshi ignored the reprimand, lost in the midnight blue eyes filled with concern and holding his breath as her small hand reached up to touch his face, her thumb wiping at the thin red line of blood on his cheek. His breath came out in a near sigh at her touch and he could not help himself as his hand lifted to cover hers, holding it in place when she would have lowered it, eliciting another surprised gasp from her.

He let go her arm that he'd kept trapped at her side and brought his hand up to rest on her shoulder. He curled his fingers lightly over her shoulder, applying the slightest bit of pressure, pulling her closer, wanting to feel her against him, wanting to kiss her, wanting to tell her how she made him feel, only to be stopped when someone stepped through the door. He momentarily squeezed her small hand in his and pulled it away from where it rest against his cheek, then loosened his hold all together watching it fall limply to her side. He quickly removed his hand from her shoulder and took a step back knowing that they were now under observation, Hanya's sharp eyes missing nothing.

"It appears I have underestimated you." He admitted quietly, watching her eyes widen further in surprise. "Hanya has taught you well."

He inclined his head quickly and turned away to make his way to the door, seeing Hanya just inside the door his eyes politely averted. Aoshi did not utter a word to his comrade, he had never needed to, and even now Hanya understood him. He quietly closed the door behind him and made his way down the hall to disappear into the quiet solitude of his room. 

-----

Hanya stared at the closed shoji Aoshi had only a moment ago closed behind him as he exited. He would have to of been blind not to realize the scene in which he'd stumbled upon, more uncomfortable than that however was the look he'd clearly seen in his Okashira's eyes. Aoshi was more often than not angry after an encounter with Misao these days; 'the rift' as he'd called it in the beginning had developed into full-fledged hostility. It had not been anger that he'd seen as he walked past on his way out, it had been fear, not even that really, more like… desperation and it was disturbing to say the least to see someone who was always so in control so deeply disturbed. He did not believe that Aoshi would ever intentionally harm Misao, however the man who had just left them was not himself and so he looked her over cautiously and although she appeared a bit dazed he could not surmise that she'd been hurt.

"Misao-chan." He decided to ask just to be sure. "Daijoubou?" 

"Hun?" She muttered in confusion, not hearing what he'd asked her at all

"Are you all right?" He asked again walking over to stand in front of her.

"Ha… Hai." She answered absently.

"What happened?" He prodded, all the while searching her face for bruises of any kind, still not convinced.

"I tagged him." She answered, her tone implying that she could barely believe it herself.

"Nani?" Hanya asked, his voice filled with incredulity.

She lifted her right hand and he could see the smear of blood across her thumb. Could this be true? He wondered. Could she have actually managed to get a scratch on Aoshi?

"I caught him off guard." Misao repeated in that same disbelieving tone as she stared at the blood on her hand. "He barely moved out of the way in time."

Hanya waited for her to continue, noticing how her hand started to tremble. He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze and her eyes lifted to meet his, widening as if she just realized it was he that was in the room with her.

"He just stood there, Hanya… he didn't say anything, her just stood there." She glanced at her hand again as she continued speaking. "…and I thought… I thought that he was going to…"

Her voice trailed off and Hanya felt a chill run up his spine as he envisioned a cowering Misao before an enraged Aoshi. His loyalty to Aoshi was so strong that he would follow him into hell, but if he raised a hand to Misao… Okashira or not Hanya would _'drag'_ him to hell himself. _I'm jumping to conclusions!_ He reminded himself, although Aoshi had appeared to be _'not himself'_ when he'd first came upon him and Misao in the training room it looked to him as if Aoshi had been more inclined toward tenderness than harm.

"I must be crazy!" She raised her eyes to his again, an overly bright smile accompanied by words that were spoken with forced laughter. "Aoshi-sama would never want to do that!"

"Do what Misao?" He asked her.

She waived him off shaking her head as if to say it was nothing at all and stepped away, to Hanya she looked as troubled as Aoshi had and he only wished that he could do something for her. An idea coming to mind; although she was probably tired from a workout that was more than she had bargained for with Aoshi, it might be the best thing for her to train some more.

----

It turned out he was right in his assumption as their session continued well beyond that of anything previous, Misao completely spent when she'd finally offered up a white flag then collapsed against the wall and slowly lowered herself to the floor. Hanya sank down beside her, both of them silent except for the gasping of their oxygen-starved lungs.

"You're getting quite good Misao." He managed between breaths.

"And you are a flatterer Hanya." She turned and smiled at him, a real smile this time. Even so, it didn't last long as something over his shoulder caught her attention and her brows furrowed and a confused frown replaced her smile. Hanya turned to see what it was that disturbed her so, his eyes falling on the twin kodachi in their sheath, forgotten by their master for probably the first time ever.

"Aoshi seemed upset when he left." Hanya offered in an attempt to open the conversation if she so desired to speak on the subject. He noted her eyes lowering to the floor again, she pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, her cheek against her legs.

"Aoshi-sama must really hate me now." She whispered quietly, resignedly.

His eyes narrowed on her in disbelief, could she have really misunderstood Aoshi's actions, or was it something else? Had she decided against Aoshi herself and told him of her choice… No! He would never believe that, even with all the speculation about her and Kazuhiko Ishida he would not believe that Misao loved anyone but Aoshi. He had paid particular attention to both of them since Misao had first given him the idea that she harbored affection for their Okashira. He'd seen the attentions of Shiro result in nothing more than a deepening friendship and although she seemed partial to the young merchant, Hanya could tell it was not what she felt for Aoshi. Still, considering Aoshi's nature and despite the fact that he understood Aoshi's feelings to be the same for her, Hanya wasn't entirely convinced that in the end, it might be less painful for her to be with the young Ishida and perhaps, Misao realized this as well.

"Misao." He began quietly knowing that he could agree with her misgivings regarding Aoshi's feelings for her and set her on a path that would lead most likely to Ishida or some other young man. It was not in him to manipulate those he loved however, no matter how much it may be to their benefit; the choice was Misao's and he would leave it to her. "That would be impossible, especially for Aoshi."

She made no comment; the two of them sat in companionable silence for sometime before parting ways for the evening. Each of them called away by their separate duties as Oniwabanshu and each of them lost in their own thoughts of the same man.

----

Misao walked slowly along the street in town, the smell of sulfur and the smoke settling close to the ground the only reminder of the fireworks that had thrilled her and the other's of the Aoiya earlier. Everyone in town, including those of the Aoiya had gathered together and cheered the brilliant light show, all in celebration of the New Year. The fireworks were over and everyone was heading back to their homes to celebrate further with food, gift giving and high spirits; she had plans to do so as well but first she had to do something. She had seen Kazuhiko only briefly during the fireworks display, making certain to invite him and his family to the celebration at the Aoiya. He had politely told her that his parents had made arrangements to go elsewhere and although he would prefer to go to the Aoiya he had agreed to accompany his parents. Misao told him dejectedly that she would just have to give him the gift she'd bought for him the day after New Year; he could not possibly have missed her disappointment and compromised by agreeing to meet her after the fireworks. He had a gift for her as well and the two of them promised to meet in front of his parent's shop to exchange them, and so after the last burst of bright color exploded into the sky Misao hurried back to the Aoiya. She gathered the gift that Omasu had helped her wrap carefully in the silk scarf that she had bought just for that purpose, as well as the box of sweets for his parents and was now on her way back through town to meet Kazuhiko. 

The quiet emptiness of the streets were a deep contrast to the bustling people that had crowded them earlier as was the growing darkness lit now only by the glow of the street lantern. As she approached her destination Misao grew nervous, the comments of those who shared the Aoiya had grown in frequency as well as become more direct. She could not ignore what Kazuhiko's attentions implied and she was now at a point where she had to make a decision; firmly make their relationship take one path or another. She looked down at her kimono, brushing her fingers over one silken sleeve she could not help but think that her decision appeared to have been made. She would have never willingly dawned clothing such as this before; always preferring her uniform or other clothing of that kind of fit. 

Aoshi had noticed it too she was certain, although he made no comment. Their hostility had ended and now there was nothing between them… nothing but the love that refused to leave her heart and silence. She had been careful about leaving the Aoiya to see Kazuhiko because although Aoshi no longer commented on her continued acquaintance with him she had not missed the way his eyes had narrowed as he'd watched them talking earlier during the fireworks. She had not missed the dangerous look in his eyes as they followed Kazuhiko moving through the crowd to rejoin his family after they'd finished talking.

"Misao-san?" Kazuhiko's quiet voice made her jump, as she'd been lost in her thoughts. She looked up to see him stepping from the shadows in front of his parent's shop a lantern in one hand and a large object bundled under his other arm. His gentle smile and warm brown eyes never failed to evoke a smile from her in return; no matter her mood he could always lighten it.

"Shall we go inside then?" She asked him after several moments of staring in silence. This only made his smile grow as he laughed at his own foolishness then he shook his head.

"The shop is no place for gift-giving." He told her and held out his hand with the lantern to indicate the direction behind the shop. "Come this way."

Misao followed closely as the light became dimmer, the street lanterns disappearing behind structures and now only the one Kazuhiko held lit their way. He was speaking to her as they walked but she was so concentrated on not losing her footing that she failed to hear a single word until he stopped walking and failing to notice she bumped into his back.

"We're here." He announced. Misao could hear water nearby and when she looked up she realized that they were in a small garden. A strange sense of déjà vu overcame her as she sat on the bench he indicated, knowing full well what it was reminding her of she quickly brushed the feeling aside.

"This is for your parents." She told him while handing him the small box of snacks and sweets that Okon and Omasu had prepared. He thanked her profusely and set the box aside as she handed him another gift. "And this is for you. Omedeto."

He unwrapped it carefully, having noticed the great care she had handled the gift with; sneaking glimpses of her as she watched him slowly folding back each corner of the silk it was wrapped in. When he uncovered the item and said nothing she grew nervous and fidgety; worried that he didn't like it at all.

"Uh… I thought of you when I saw it." She stuttered as he continued to stare at the small statuette, when he responded with nothing more than a single nod Misao thought that maybe her idea wasn't such a good one. When she'd seen the small figurine of the boy playing a violin she had thought of him immediately and taking his own advice that the best gift is usually the first one that comes to mind she had bought it for him. "It… It's from Europe."

"Hai." He whispered quietly nodding again and then raising his eyes to hers. Misao found herself holding her breath, not releasing it until she saw the smile on his face. "Arigato Misao-san."

"You like it?" She asked as she watched him fold it back into the safety of it's wrapping, fingering the small violin, chuckling lightly then finished wrapping it and set it on the bench beside him before turning back to her.

"Hai." He told her. "I like it very much."

"Yokatta." She sighed as her shoulders relaxed and her own smile returned. 

"Don't forget." He reached inside the front of his hanten and pulled out a small object wrapped in paper and handed it to her. "I have a gift for you as well."

It weighed next to nothing and Misao didn't have the slightest clue what it could be. She gasped when she folded back the last corner of the paper and saw the beautiful hair comb resting in her palm. It was remarkably intricate; silver that sparkled in the lamplight, bent and molded into an exquisitely detailed butterfly. Misao was almost afraid to touch it as it looked so delicate and fragile she feared she might somehow damage it. Kazuhiko apparently had no such misgivings as he took it from her hand, leaned forward, brushed some of the lose hair around her face back and pinned it with the comb above her ear. Embarrassed at her stupidity and hoping she didn't appear ungrateful or as if she didn't like the hair comb Misao was about to thank him for the wonderful gift when she felt the light brush of his lingering fingers caressing her cheek. To say she was shocked was an understatement and he could not help but notice her eyes wide as saucers and quickly pulled away, climbing to his feet he reached down and picked up the bundle he'd had under his arm earlier.

"I have another gift for you as well Misao-san." She was surprised even further and still not recovered from what happened a few moments ago. Misao could do nothing more than stare at him as he slowly revealed his violin. "Now close your eyes and listen while I play for you."

Misao did as he asked, instantly mesmerized by the sound of Kazuhiko's violin; it was sad and it was sweet and the sounds of melancholy and joy filled her simultaneously. It registered somewhere in the depths of her mind that this was the sound that love makes, for what else was able to wreak emotions from a person that were complete opposite ends of the spectrum? Nothing, there was nothing else that had that much power; the sound and the feeling were overwhelming and Misao found herself lost in both.

The music stopped but as long as she could kept her eyes closed she could still hear it, she could pretend that the sound of love was still there, she could pretend many things. She welcomed the soft press of lips against hers; the arms that wound around her and caressed her back now used to pull her against him, while she pushed her fingers into his hair. The silken strands were just as she'd always imagined and this time he did not pull away from her, their kiss deepened and she felt his own fingers delving into her hair. He broke off their kiss and she whimpered in momentary protest until she felt his lips brush lightly against her cheek again and again, making her gasp when he kissed the sensitive skin right below her ear.

"Misao." The whisper of her name was like the blast of cannon fire. Her eyes flew open and she gasped in shock at the gentle brown eyes that gazed back at her, so near that she could not look away. She jumped immediately to her feet and Kazuhiko turned and made to climb to his. She put a hand on his shoulder to stop him and shook her head.

"Please." She asked saying nothing more, unable to form any other words. She had done the most despicable thing and was thoroughly ashamed at having allowed herself to stoop so low as to pretend the one she was with was someone else. It had been Aoshi's mouth kissing hers, Aoshi's arms about her and Aoshi's hair that ran like silk through her fingers. It was Aoshi, yet it wasn't; she turned and made her way back through the garden in the dark, leaving Kazuhiko to stare after her in confusion.

"Misao?" She heard him call but ignored it and continued back through the dark to the Aoiya.


	5. koigokor... Awakening Love part 5 (revi...

Finally, it's done. Thank you Moderator Misao for suggesting the challenge (sort of). I have never liked working on this fic, as I'm sure I've mentioned numerous times. I just hate it when fics are left unfinished though and swore I would never do that; so, my sanity gone, my computer in therapy from all the names I've called it, I have kept my word and finished it. I also should have picked another poet than Shakespeare because I'm not a big fan of his sonnets either. Well, it's over with and I'm glad and I am also glad that others were able to glean some enjoyment from it.

Disclaimer: Rk's not mine!

Warning: some steamy kissing, some implied sex but nothing beyond the PG-13 rating.

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__

We have seen many wine drinkers

at life's party

Who have exchanged a cup full of their desires

for a beggar's bowl ---- Nabi

"Where is Misao?" Aoshi asked, his tone light and casual so as not to draw any speculation from anyone. 

"Isn't she home yet?" Okon answered him absently as she worked on setting out food for everyone who would be at the Aoiya that evening, giving directions to Beshimi and Shiro, the latter not failing to look up at him when he mentioned Misao's name. "She left before any of us and should be home by now. Did you check her room?"

Aoshi mumbled an appropriate response and walked away. He had not checked her room, he didn't need to; he could feel her absence from the Aoiya like no one else and did not need to check any room to know she wasn't there. He made his way out to the garden area, although it was highly unlikely she would be there he thought it was better to make certain; as he suspected, it was vacant. Aoshi walked back through the hall passing the small table laden with the gifts each member of the household had purchased and carefully decorated for each other and those who were invited to join them this evening. Aoshi's eyes swept the expanse of gifts, widening slightly when he noticed the absence of one in particular. The bright, silk cloth it had been wrapped in, glared at him from the day she had set it there and now the empty space it had occupied glared at him as well. He knew where she'd gone and although none was needed he made his way back to the kitchen for confirmation.

"Okon?" Aoshi asked again in his casual voice. "Will the Ishida's be joining us tonight?"

"No." She answered again still not suspecting anything although Aoshi could feel Shiro's eyes on him. "Kazuhiko told Misao earlier that his parent's had made other plans and he was obliged to go with them."

"She's going to be so disappointed at not being able to give him the gift she bought for him." Omasu chimed in from nearby, earning a nod of agreement from Okon.

Aoshi remained silent, offering a small nod at Okon's reply; he turned slightly and lifted his eyes to meet the sharp gaze of Shiro that he could still feel upon him. It was impossible not to read the message in the young man's eyes, however subtle he attempted to be the warning was clear, 'leave her be'. As always Aoshi's eyes revealed nothing of what he was feeling, the eyes that stared back at Shiro were empty and expressionless; he held Shiro's gaze for several moments before Omasu distracted the young ninja with a request.

"You will be joining us wont you Aoshi-sama?" Okon's question stopped him when he turned to leave.

"Aah." He affirmed then walked away, moving down the hall to his room where, without any intention of doing so, he donned his overcoat and made his way out the back the Aoiya, his feet making barely a sound as he walked through the garden and out the gate. 

He knew that Hanya stood nearby, he could feel his presence in the shadows watching him with concerned eyes, knowing full well where his Okashira was headed. Aoshi pushed the gate open and stepped out into the streets, moving quickly and quietly through the few people who were still out strolling in the sulfur laden air. Some would catch a glimpse of the tall figure in the light colored overcoat that whisked by them; others merely felt a swift breeze. 

Aoshi headed straight for Ishida's, his heart racing as he tried to outrun the whirlwind spinning in his head. His desperate actions had made him act without thinking, something he wasn't prone to do; he had no idea what he would do or say once he found the two of them. Wait nearby while the two of them awkwardly exchanged gifts under the watchful eye of Misao's obviously demented guardian, or maybe demand, as her Okashira, that she return with him at once? Aoshi wanted to laugh at his own foolishness, knowing that no matter what he said or did, his mere presence there would show how desperate he was.

Ishida's quiet voice interrupted his thoughts and Aoshi stepped back into the shadows as his surroundings revealed he was in front of their shop. He caught sight of Misao immediately as she followed the young man along a clearly marked path to the rear of the building, the small lantern he held lighting their way. She was still dressed in the kimono she had worn earlier, looking very elegant and proper; there was no evidence of the little hell raiser Aoshi knew was lurking under all that satin that swished as she moved. When the two passed through a gate and disappeared from sight Aoshi remained where he was, intending to wait for Misao. He managed only a few minutes before he thought better of his decision and made his way around the other side of the Ishida's shop. He remained among the dark canopy of trees that hid him and settled on a branch that was large enough to hold his weight and high enough to afford him a view of the entire area. 

The two of them were sitting on a bench, he could see the silk wrapped gift that had glared at him from the small table in the Aoiya sitting, unwrapped, behind Ishida who was now reaching into his breast pocket. The item he removed was small, from Aoshi's vantage point it looked like nothing more than folded paper but with the amount of money the merchant Ishida's had Aoshi knew better. The quiet gasp from Misao as she unwrapped the item and now stared at it resting in her palm convinced Aoshi that it was indeed very expensive. He noted Misao's reluctance to touch it and felt a small triumph at Ishida's having bought her something that was so expensive she could not possibly enjoy it. His triumph was short lived as he watched Ishida pluck the small item from her hand, brush her hair back from her face, pinning it in place with a small, silver hair comb. Aoshi did not miss how Ishida's fingers lingered on her hair then brushed against her cheek and it was almost more than he could bear. He clenched his fists tightly; his nails biting into the palms of his sword callused, hands, relaxing again only when Ishida climbed to his feet and stood before Misao who remained seated. Aoshi watched curiously as the young man unwrapped a small stringed instrument and whispered something to Misao, suddenly the air was filled with the arresting sounds of his music. 

Aoshi had heard this type of instrument before, in the company of those who entertained wealthy westerners it seemed to be quite popular. Ishida's playing was different however, there was emotion in it and the powerful notes seemed to reflect exactly what was in Aoshi's own heart. He didn't like the idea of allowing Ishida a concession in anything but it was quite obvious the young man was truly a master with his playing. His eyes drifted back to Misao who was no less affected by the enchanting sounds; her eyes closed, her pale skin glowing in the lamplight. His fists tightened as desire burned in him and he quietly, unintentionally whispered her name.

Aoshi feared he'd given himself away with that one whispered word as the music suddenly came to a stop and nearly sighed when it became obvious no one heard him. He would not feel relief for long, icy dread filled him as he watched Ishida kiss Misao, he felt a sharp twisting pain in his chest as the young man, now sitting beside her on the bench, gathered her in his arms and pulled her closer. Aoshi wanted to kill Kazuhiko Ishida in that moment, the next he felt as though he were dying himself as he watched Misao's hands bury themselves in his hair, returning Ishida's kiss fervently. It was more than even he could bear and so he silently turned away from the two lovers, climbed down the tree and back around to the street.

Aoshi did not hurry or make an attempt to move with any stealth as he made his way back to the Aoiya. The image of Misao with Ishida pictured clearly in his mind, haunting him, making his surroundings unseen. He tried to banish the image from his mind but he could not, eyes open or closed it would not leave him; it was a punishment he supposed. A punishment for pushing away the one his heart desired most, the feelings she harbored for him were being driven out by her feelings for another. Someone else was taking his place in her heart, someone who was kind and saw her and what she offered for what they were… precious gifts. 

__

Was she truly in love with Ishida? He wondered his heart filling with fear…something he'd never known until he'd gone from loving Misao to being 'in love' with Misao, however long ago that might have been, he could not recall. Aoshi could almost hear the countless slain enemies of his past laughing at him, the sound drifting up from the depths of hell where they were now confined and drifting around him, taunting him. He cared not for their mockery, what was that compared to a bleak and unbearable life without her. There was nothing compared to that he knew and so was resolved to keep her with him no matter how desperate or foolish it made him in the eyes of anyone else, he would never let her go; not to Ishida, not to anyone.

"Is everything all right Okashira?" Hanya's voice from the shadows stopped any further thought on the subject; Aoshi focused on his surroundings, surprised to find himself standing at the back of the Aoiya. Further testament to how much he was affected that he had not even known, had been completely oblivious to his surroundings. His hand tightened on the gate, his knuckles whitening as his fingers bit into the wood; he could not so much as formulate a single word this time and merely nodded his head in reply.

"A message came for you earlier." As Aoshi pushed the gate open and stepped through it Hanya's voice stopped him once more. He turned and walked back to retrieve the folded sheet of paper from Hanya's outstretched hand.

//_Your assistance is needed, meet me at the police station.//_

Aoshi turned and headed back through the gate and down the street, answering 'no' to Hanya's question as to whether he needed him to accompany him.

----

"Captain Fujita." The young officer called the false name of the former Shinsengumi captain, now a government official who posed as a nobody cop. The officer left Aoshi to the wolf of Mibu after ushering him in, closing the door behind him as he exited.

Saitoh needed no introduction to those who also fought during the Bakamatsu; any of the older Oniwabanshu would know him on sight, even without his topknot and the uniform of the Shinsengumi. Much like Aoshi and the other Oniwabanshu Saitoh lived as a warrior during this supposed peaceful Meiji era, picking it clean of those who would corrupt and defile their homeland, with his own brand of justice. 

"Forgive my summoning you Okashira." The smooth voice floated from the still figure that remained seated behind the desk. "I thought it best not to intrude upon the Oniwabanshu New Year celebration."

"It would be no intrusion." Aoshi stepped further into the room. "I'm sure you would be welcome to join us."

"I'm sure." Saitoh chuckled with sarcasm as he stood and walked around his desk. "Unfortunately for me, when I have police business to discuss I cannot relax or think of anything else until I have done so."

"Another time perhaps." Aoshi offered wondering what would induce Saitoh to summon him on this night of all. The man was direct; often rude but to interrupt a celebration, such as tonight's, was no trivial thing.

Saitoh nodded his thanks for the invitation and lifted a sheet of paper from his desk; he held it up for Aoshi to look at then set it back on his desk without Aoshi reading one word written upon it.

"This is a confession outlining the detailed shipments of drugs leaving and entering Japan, the distributions of those drugs and..." Saitoh paused, a twisted grin appearing on his face. "It also names the source behind the illegal drug ring."

Aoshi did not flinch, he gave no indication that he had heard Saitoh at all, merely stood and waited for the other man to continue. After taking his time lighting a cigarette he did.

"We were quite surprised at discovering only one person ran the entire business and even more surprised at discovering who ran it." Saitoh puffed on his cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke into the air. "The merchant behind the entire ring has hid his activities well, his political connections are numerous and as he pays them all a great deal of money he has remained conveniently unnoticed."

"And you brought me down here for what exactly?" Aoshi asked wanting Saitoh to get to the point.

"You're not very patient this evening." Saitoh commented while putting his cigarette out in the small glass dish upon his desk. Aoshi remained silent. "I would like to rid Japan of this merchant and the corrupt politicians who continue to aid and abet him in one simple step."

"You would like to enlist the assistance of the Oniwabanshu to do this?" Aoshi asked.

"Yes." Saitoh paused and lit yet another cigarette filling the room with a new cloud of smoke after the other had at last dissipated. "That and I wish to caution you."

"Caution me?" Came Aoshi's incredulous reply. "Whatever for?"

"The merchant named on this sheet of paper." Saitoh lifted it briefly and dropped it again. "Is Ishida."

Aoshi hid his surprise well; he merely stared at Saitoh who sat puffing his cigarette, the ever-present sardonic grin on his face and his eyes that missed nothing watching his every move.

__

Ishida? He thought with disbelief. He would never have thought to suspect them of illegal practices, still they did display a degree of wealth that the father seemed a little too simple minded to achieve. His next thoughts were of Misao, he would have to ensure that she had no part of this mission. There had been no mention of the merchant's son in this matter. Still, the entire family would most certainly feel the shame and although he didn't care what Kazuhiko Ishida suffered, he would not have Misao suffer, which is no doubt why Saitoh would want to caution him.

"Was the entire family named?" Aoshi wanted clarification.

Saitoh who was making his way back around his desk turned and stared at the younger man, his sharp eyes narrowing further as they stared back at Aoshi. 

"His wife was named as being aware of all these transactions." Saitoh spoke while leaning over to once again butt out the cigarette in the small glass dish. "She supposedly is the one who kept the books that recorded the money they brought in, the money they paid out and to whom. You can imagine my desire to have these books I am sure."

Aoshi nodded remaining silent for several moments before asking, 'I have a favor to ask of you Saitoh.'

"And that would be?" The other man asked, folding his arms across his chest as he waited for Aoshi to continue although he was not fooled that Saitoh hadn't already guessed what he would ask.

"That Ishida's involvement in these illegal activities, that his arrest not be a public one." Aoshi's words seemed rushed, even to his own ears and it was clear Saitoh had the same impression as one thin eyebrow raised in question. "I see no reason to make the innocent son suffer for the sins of the father."

"How extraordinarily noble of you." Aoshi turned slightly to avoid the wolf's sharp eyes and sarcastic tone as he stepped closer and continued quietly although Aoshi could not miss his speculative tone. "But perhaps, a public arrest might be more to your benefit."

Aoshi made no comment merely frowned as he turned back and met Saitoh's gaze; his mouth still twisted into a smirk.

"It would certainly remove an obstacle that is currently in your path." Saitoh explained and when Aoshi continued to remain silent Saitoh lowered his eyes to Aoshi's chest then poked a finger to where his heart beat beneath. "We both formed our ideals and impressions among the same violence Okashira and like you, my feelings are not openly displayed, however this insight makes your heart an open book to me and I can see who it beats for."

The shock filling Aoshi at Saitoh's words remained disguised through long years of practice. He did not miss Saitoh's knowing smirk telling him that his stoic face did nothing to hide his feelings from him.

"Still, if she is in here..." Saitoh's finger pressed into Aoshi's chest. "Then you would stop at nothing to secure her happiness; even if it's letting her go to someone else."

Aoshi's mask did not slip at Saitoh's words, nor did it slip when the image of Ishida and Misao kissing appeared before his eyes and caused his heart to constrict painfully in his chest. He knocked Saitoh's finger away with a swipe of his arm. The other man merely stepped away, lit another cigarette and leaned against his desk. He watched Aoshi for several moments as he took a long drag of the offensive thing, the red ember glowing brighter, yellowing until it nearly matched the strange hue of his eyes.

"Can I count on you Shinomori?" Smoke billowing out with his words as if he were a dragon.

"You can." Aoshi inclined his head. "As long as my one condition is met."

Saitoh nodded his agreement; Aoshi turned and left the office ignoring the stares of the officers and the small, redheaded boy with sharp eyes who carried a sword openly in his belt as he passed.

The quiet streets of Kyoto were even more so now, the calm only disturbed by the occasional merrymakers whose boisterous behavior filtered out of their well-lit windows and into the streets. He imagined things were well underway at the Aoiya and he would hear the same laughter and merriment once he reached it. He wondered if Misao would be home when he got there.

As he thought of her Aoshi thought of what Saitoh had said, 'if she is in here then you would stop at nothing to secure her happiness; even if it's letting her go to someone else.' He was right, damn it! It was ironic, not to mention somewhat disturbing that a man whose past was painted with so much blood and violence could point out to him the feelings of his heart. Aoshi had been so convinced that his love for her meant that he could not be without her, that he had to do everything to keep her with him, but that wasn't true. Loving her meant that he would be happy knowing that she was happy and if that meant giving her up to Kazuhiko Ishida then, as painful as it would be, he would do it. Still, he would not let her go without protest, he would still do anything in his power to convince her to stay.

----

As he guessed the Aoiya was alive with the sounds of celebration, lanterns gave off the appearance of daylight there were so many lit. Aoshi made his way in as discreetly as possible and moved off to the side, his eyes were in search of Misao the moment he walked through the door. He moved among the people, his eyes sweeping the familiar and unfamiliar faces of those present, politely refusing the numerous offers of sake he received, commenting when it was necessary for him to do so in a conversation he had paid no attention to. 

He was still wearing his coat and beneath, his kodachi, without drawing attention to himself Aoshi backed into the kitchen and down the hall to his room. There he removed both items and after taking a moment to straighten out his clothing, made his way back to the party. The noise growing louder as he neared the kitchen once more, louder still when he pushed the door open and then all was silent, as if the world had stopped as he came face to face with Misao.

His eyes dropped immediately to her lips, remembering the events of earlier this evening; he did not know what he expected to find, the remnants of Ishida's kiss maybe. Nothing had changed however, it was still the same soft, full mouth that tempted him, that beckoned him, that made him forget everything except pressing his own mouth against hers.

__

Would they still feel as soft as he remembered? Aoshi wondered his hand lifting from his side to test his theory by brushing his fingers across her lips. _Would they still taste as sweet?_ He could feel his body leaning forward.

"Su… Sumimasen." Her whisper broke through the spell he was falling under; he blinked as he realized he had not moved a muscle, had merely imagined it. He raised his eyes to hers only to be lost in the spell of their midnight blue depths and when he made no attempt to move Misao ducked around him, retrieved whatever it was she'd come after and returned to the boisterous crowd in the restaurant. 

Not a word, not from her and not from himself; he had planned on telling her how he felt when next he saw her and he'd done no more than gaze like some love sick fool when the opportunity came. He could not even use the excuse that she had rushed out before he had the opportunity, for he knew one word would have kept her there. 

He would have to tell her. He admitted thinking perhaps it was best that he had not done so a moment ago, if he had and she'd declared that Ishida was her choice, she would never forgive him being involved in this business with Saitoh against the boy's family. It was better to wait until the matter with the police was wrapped up; his parents quietly arrested and Kazuhiko Ishida free of any charges.

With that decided Aoshi rejoined the crowd in the restaurant; he kept his distance from Misao the entire night but his eyes followed her every move, never losing sight of her for a moment.

----

"Gokuro arimashita!" Okina complained about all the hard work while stretching his arms and yawning, gaining the attention of the real laborers over tonight's party, namely the three female members of the Oniwabanshu. "Especially for an old man like me."

Aoshi raised an eyebrow as he continued in his task of stacking up the many serving trays left around the restaurant. He didn't think Okina had lifted a finger in the preparations for tonight except to point to where he wanted the lanterns placed and knew that his attempt to take credit for having done so would not go unnoticed.

"Nani!?" Okon was the first to voice her objection and Okina cringed in case any flying objects accompanied her voice. "You haven't done anything!"

Okina grinned sheepishly and stayed clear of the others as they continued to grumble about lazy old men who didn't know when to be quiet. Aoshi shook his head and carried the trays into the kitchen where he and Beshimi set about washing them. All traces of the party were erased in no time with all of them working simultaneously, with the exception of Okina, who always seemed to find something, that needed his direct and immediate attention when someone suggested he help. 

"Misao." Omasu's voice called from the doorway, as they were all about to leave the kitchen and migrate toward the main gathering area away from the restaurant. "Will you help Aoshi-sama prepare and carry the items for tea? Okon and I will gather the gifts."

Aoshi looked up in surprise at Omasu's suggestion, his eyes going to the obviously uncomfortable Misao whom he could tell wanted to refuse. After a moment or too of silence she dropped her eyes to the ground and awkwardly agreed. Omasu smiled and nodded then left the room, everyone else who had not already done so left as well and they were once more alone in the kitchen. 

Her discomfort and nervousness were obvious as they worked together in silence, the clinking of the porcelain and her shuffling feet the only sound. He looked at her face as she moved to stand next to him, she glanced up and her eyes widened at meeting his and she hurriedly looked away, the teacups rattling in her shaking hands as she reached to place them on the tray. Unable to bear her suffering any longer he placed his hand gently atop hers and removed the cups from her grasp, setting them atop the tray.

"Misao." He whispered her eyes wide as she stared up at him, he sighed heavily at how things had changed so much between them, everything was so different now and he felt bad that he had done this to them. "You were not always so uneasy in my company." 

"No." Her voice barely above a whisper was accompanied by the light shake of her head. He caught the light flash of something falling from her hair, he bent and quickly caught it before it hit the floor, and opened his hand as he straightened. Misao gasped, her hand going to her hair, confirming that it was indeed hers.

Ishida's gift. Aoshi surmised. The silver butterfly weighed next to nothing in his palm, he could probably close his hand around it and crush it without a great deal of effort. 

"Ishida has very fine taste." He spoke quietly watching her eyes widen in surprise as he leaned closer, reached up and placed the butterfly securely in her hair.

They were standing so close, barely an inch between them, her breath tickling his skin beneath his shirt, he placed his fingers under her chin and peered into her blue eyes, wide with uncertainty and he supposed a little panic. He trailed his fingers lightly from her chin to her temple and leaned closer.

"Omedeto, Misao." He whispered against her skin before brushing his mouth across her cheek. It had been some time since he had last tasted her skin or felt the smoothness of it against his lips and he found it was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time. It had been his intent to stop here but he found himself unable to control the decent of his lips toward hers.

"Aoshi-sama." She sighed, cut off as his lips met hers, his hands moved gently but possessively over her shoulders and down her back, pulling her closer. Her hands fisted in the front of his shirt trapped between their two bodies. 

"Misaooo!" Okina's bellowing from down the hall prompted them to jump apart. They stared at each other in wide-eyed shock and confusion from opposite sides of the room. "Go tell Hanya to come inside!"

"Ha… Hai!" She shouted back, her eyes never leaving his as she backed out of the room to go do as she was told.

----

Hanya watched curiously as the young woman who had just burst through the doors, a determined step to her walk suddenly halted and slumped back against the wall. She was indeed acting strange tonight; earlier when she'd come home by herself and now this. His brows furrowed as she flapped her hands very quickly in front of her face, as if she were fanning herself, she stopped almost as quickly as she'd begun and then pressed her fingers to her lips. She stayed like that for a full minute then shook her head again roughly, fanned herself some more and then began straightening her kimono; brushing away any wrinkles, closing up the neckline some and shifting her obi. 

She was trying so hard to appear as a lady; Hanya wanted to smile at this as he knew that everyone already saw her as so much more. She walked out into the garden area, her steps making not a sound on the wooden floor as she strolled the garden's perimeter slowly.

"Hanya?" She called quietly, her voice trembling ever so slightly, letting him know that something was troubling her a great deal, she couldn't hide her voice behind her elegant appearance. "Hanya? Doko?"

He separated himself from the shadows and before he made a sound she swung around to face him, having sensed where he was. She was getting better at doing this and Hanya believed that she might have sensed him even sooner if she was not already distracted by something else.

"What is it Misao?" He asked quietly walking up to stand in front of her, his eyes taking in the small silver comb in her hair, the flushed look of her skin and the pulse that beat quicker than normal at her throat.

"O… Okina sent me out here to bring you inside." She stuttered and grasped his hand pulling him as she turned to make her way into the Aoiya. "He wants to make certain you open your gifts as well."

"Che… he probably only wants to see if I got him a gift." Hanya scoffed at the old man's greedy nature. He did not miss Misao's absent smile at his offhand remark; she was smiling because it was appropriate, because she did not want him to think anything was bothering her. The empty smile only served to further his suspicions.

"Misao." He stopped abruptly as he spoke her name and she turned to look at him curiously. "Is everything all right? I am always here for you and if you have something you wish to talk about, please feel free to do so."

She smiled kindly at him and nodded, her hand tightening in his as she stepped up kissed his mask covered cheek, and then proceeded to pull him along with her to where everyone was gathered in the Aoiya.

Hanya's eyes went straight to Aoshi when he entered the room; he was sitting in a corner sipping tea while listening to whatever it was Okon was telling him. He looked up and met his gaze as soon as he entered and the look was an indication that he wished to see him as soon as it was politely acceptable that they leave the room. Hanya inclined his head minutely, an action that was probably missed by everyone in the room other than his Okashira, exactly as it was meant to be.

Relaxing into a quiet unobtrusive corner Hanya gained far more pleasure watching others open their gifts than receiving his own. Their anticipation as they tried unsuccessfully to contain themselves and not rip open their gifts. The surprised gasps at each new gift, the thankful smile and the elated gleam in their eye as they sought out the one that had given it to them. After some time and most of the gifts had been handed out, Hanya noticed Aoshi's slight movement, indicating it was time for business to take precedence once again. Almost that same moment Misao climbed to her feet announcing that she had gifts for everyone as well. As Hanya started to worry over having to hurt her feelings he noticed Aoshi lift two of his fingers; an indication that they were to hold off leaving the room just yet. His eyes widened and he glanced over to see Beshimi and Shikijou looking at each other and shrugging their shoulders at this strange behavior from Aoshi. 

__

What was he up to? Hanya wondered. He'd never been indecisive, once he'd made up his mind that was it and as for interrupting the small party here, they all understood what it was that went on under the guise of the restaurant. He looked back at Aoshi who seemed as though there was nothing out of the ordinary. Noting his intent gaze, Hanya followed the path of his Okashira's eyes, finding them trained on Misao, he looked back at Aoshi and could not help but see how his eyes followed her every move. When she turned to approach Aoshi, her arm extended, offering him her small gift, he climbed to his feet and took it from her with both hands. Hanya did not miss the lingering of Aoshi's fingers on her hands or the way their eyes met and held before Misao turned away and sat back in the spot she had previously occupied, Aoshi watched her and sat down only after she did. Hanya looked around the room, it appeared he'd been the only one who was not so overly engrossed in their gift to witness what had just happened, even that nosy Okina had failed to see it. 

All though she tried to hide it and was successful for the most part, she could not hide from Hanya's sharp eyes. In between the small hugs, pats on the head and kisses on the cheek for the gifts she had given, Misao watched with nervous anticipation as Aoshi slowly unwrapped the gift she had given him. When he set the silk cloth aside and revealed a book he raised his eyes to hers; the look that Hanya could see in them left him in no doubt of the true feelings in Aoshi's heart. He loved her, more than that, he was 'in love' with her. Still, knowing the Okashira as well as he did, Hanya could not help but wonder if Aoshi would ever be able to tell Misao how he felt. He had suspected Aoshi's feelings for Misao for many months and the same uneasy conclusion was always the result. Aoshi had never been one to let his emotions govern him and although he had seen him do so recently, Hanya doubted he was capable of the type of vulnerability such a confession would certainly require. He was a warrior, first and foremost; in his heart were fighting, war and being victorious in the latter.

__

Where would love find a home in such a heart? Hanya wondered as he watched Aoshi place the small book inside his shirt and rise from his seat; himself, Beshimi and Shikijou all doing likewise. The other Oniwabanshu followed their movements, knowing it was something that could not be avoided. Okina nodded at Aoshi's significant look and as the four of them left the room he could hear the old man trying to regain the cheerfulness of earlier as he merrily passed out the gifts from Aoshi to those left behind. More specifically rummaged through the gifts to find one labeled for him.

Hanya followed along quietly putting behind him Aoshi's odd behavior as he now committed his full attention to whatever it was his Okashira would ask of him. They filed into the 'secret' meeting room after Aoshi, the others joining him around the small table he sat behind while Hanya preferred to remain standing in front of the closed shoji.

"It appears the police require our assistance once again." Aoshi's voice filled the room and they were all deeply attentive to his every word. "The man Shikijou apprehended nearly a month ago has confessed, revealing all he knows of the drug ring that tarnishes our fair city and the rest of Japan as well."

"It would appear that in exchange for his freedom, he has exposed the entire operation, naming shipping vessels, sea routes as well as land routes and destinations." Aoshi took a deep breath, crossed his arms over his chest and continued. "He has also named key political figures in Japan, China and Europe who were involved, as well as named the person behind the entire ring of corruption and dishonor."

"Our task is quite simple." Aoshi continued. "We are to enter this person's house and retrieve ledgers that have recorded all names, transactions and shipments with regards to this drug ring."

Aoshi was quiet for several moments before once again continuing to speak. 'I have chosen you three not only for your skills but also because I may be assured of your secrecy. Not a word of what we have discussed here tonight leaves this room, mention it to no one, especially Misao.' At the mention of Misao Hanya frowned, wondering what she could have to do with this.

"If it gets back to me that any of you have failed to keep silent on this matter." Aoshi's voice remained calm as he spoke, they all knew better than to take him lightly simply because the sound of his voice was not harsh. "The punishment will be severe."

They all gave a single nod of their head, which Aoshi acknowledged, with a nod of his own. Silence filled the room once more as Aoshi hesitated in continuing, as if he were collecting the right words for what he had to tell them.

"Two nights from now you will go to the residence of the merchant Ishida. Shikijou, you are to keep watch from the street and inform Beshimi of any anomalies; Beshimi, you are to keep watch from the rooftop of the house and make certain Hanya has no obstacles." Aoshi's directions were concise and to the point. "Hanya, you are to actually retrieve the ledgers and once this is done I want them brought to the small booth next to the boat launch."

__

The merchant Ishida? Hanya thought silently as he made his way to his room after they had all been dismissed. _No wonder he didn't want Misao to find out._

----

Having made up her mind Misao let her yukata slip from her shoulders and with great care lifted the kimono and slipped her arms through. For two days she had laid it out on her bed, inspecting every inch of the beautiful dark blue silk, the delicate sakura embroidered at the hem and across one sleeve. Someone had taken great care in making the beautiful garment and she had been afraid that if she touched it, if her fingers so much as brushed across the fabric's surface it would forever be ruined. She was being absurd and she knew it but it did take some heavy self-berating for her to finally get over her ridiculous doubts. 

The fabric whispered over her bare skin as she bent down and retrieved the pale pink obi then straightened to fasten it around her waist.

She walked to the full length mirror that Hanya had given to her for her sixteenth birthday and stood shocked at her own image. Never had she seen herself looking so much like… a woman. The thought nearly made her want to laugh as her eyes swept the length of her reflection, her curves were clearly outlined in the clinging silk. Fidgeting slightly while trying, unsuccessfully, at pulling the neckline closed, as she was unused to having so much of her shoulders and chest exposed.

She had never worn a kimono like this one before, the pale, juvenile colors of those she owned were a girl's kimonos and she'd felt like a girl in them; this kimono… everything about it, the color, the embroidery, the way it was cut, was meant for a woman. She lifted her hand and pressed her fingers to her lips, remembering the way Aoshi had kissed her that night in the kitchen, the way a man kisses a woman.

She shook her head as nothing made any sense. Aoshi had told her he would never see her as anything more than a little girl all those months ago, if that were true then; how could he kiss her the way he did, or look at her with his eyes blazing fire? And how could he give a gift such as this kimono to someone he saw as merely a little girl? 

"He couldn't." Misao whispered as her eyes swept the length of her reflection in the mirror.

A slight movement outside her window caught her attention and Misao looked up from her reflection. She didn't see anything and was about to look away when a small, white, feather floated past her window, then another, then another and as the next one drifted down she realized it wasn't feathers at all but snow. Approaching the window she pushed it open further and stared at the increasing flurry drifting down from nowhere as if by magic. She felt one on her cheek and smiled, leaning out the window to try and catch one she stretched as far as she could reach, feeling their cool lightness against her skin before it melted in her palm. 

For all her assertion at being a woman Misao could not help but be reduced to a child at seeing the first snow of winter. She turned away from the window and headed out of her room and downstairs. If it wasn't the middle of the night she might call to the others but knew they wouldn't appreciate the snow as she did she left them to their warm futons as she passed by them in the hall. Sliding open the shoji she gasped, the garden was perfect and she slipped into her shoes and stepped outside. Laughing as she chased down the elusive white flakes, trying to catch them in her hand as she danced and twirled about, her hands open to catch the swirling snow. 

----

Aoshi slid the door open and stepped through, his eyes falling on Misao; he could not move, could barely even breath, arrested at the sight of her dancing in the snow, dressed in the kimono that he'd given her. She twirled about in the garden trying to capture the errant snowflakes that fell lightly around her. The glow of clouds, reflecting brightly with the promise of more snow, turned her black hair blue, her skin to fine white porcelain.

She was both womanly and childlike, dressed so elegantly she could stroll among the finest courtiers, yet her actions were carefree, like that of a young girl not yet imposed upon by the trials of nearing adulthood. Her eyes sparkled with innocence and her long braid swayed with her movements. 

His heart would not allow him to be silent and he breathed her name, 'Misao', just as his heart beat the same. She turned at the whisper of her name, her eyes growing wide as she met his.

"Aoshi-sama!" She gasped and her arms dropped to her sides, her playfulness forgotten. They stood silent for what seemed a lifetime and she finally lowered her eyes to the ground, mumbled an apology and turned to leave.

"Misao..." He was suddenly spurred into action and stepped after her retreating back, he lifted his arms and lightly placed a hand on each of her shoulders. She halted immediately and he could feel her entire body grow tense as he moved even closer and whispered near her ear. "Please don't go."

Oniwabanshu business that he wanted her to know nothing of had kept him away from her since their encounter during the New Year celebration and he had spent every spare moment of that time thinking of nothing but being this close to her again. He tightened his grasp on her shoulders slightly, his thumbs brushing light circles upon the silk that covered her skin.

"Cold?" He asked when she shivered. She gave a slight nod of her head and then gasped as his arms reached out around her, one across her chest the other around her waist, pulling her back against him. He bowed his head, his cheek brushing against her soft hair; his lips teased the bare skin between her neck and shoulder.

"Aoshi-sama…" She whispered breathlessly, her voice barely audible in the silence. He lifted his head slightly, giving a slow negative shake of his head before kissing her cheek.

"Aoshi." He whispered against her cheek, punctuating his name with another kiss. "Aoshi."

She made not a sound and for several moments did not move then he felt her twisting in his embrace, turning around to face him. He was immediately lost in the bottomless, blue depths of her eyes; he could feel her fingers slowly sliding into his hair, the pressure of her hands as she pulled him toward her. As if under a spell he could do nothing but bend to meet the lips that she raised to his, falling victim to her kiss. The light pressure of her mouth soon grew persistent, heated and he groaned as he matched her fervor. His hand at the small of her back drew her closer; he could feel every inch of her, every curve pressed against him and the sensation was pushing him beyond the limits of his control. He wanted her even closer, no kimono, no clothing, nothing between them, just the feel of her skin against his own. 

Aoshi dropped his hand that had been cupping her cheek to her shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing over her bare skin, he felt Misao shudder and pulled back, lifting his head and ending their kiss. Her eyes fluttered open to stare into his, widening slightly as his fingers drifted lightly from her shoulder across to her collarbone, delicately tracing its outline. His fingers trailed down further, drawing over the small scar on her chest, barely visible; he could still remember the day that she had fallen onto one of Hanya's kunai after being strictly forbidden to touch them. Through trial and error Aoshi and the others who helped raise her learned that the one way to ensure Misao would do something was to forbid her to do so, her curious nature would always get the better of her.

"I'm surprised you still have a scar". He whispered lifting his eyes from the small scar to meet hers. "It was such a long time ago."

"Aoshi." Her soft, quivering voice interrupted several moments of silence while Aoshi continued to caress the small imperfection on her skin. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because." He whispered as his hand reached up to once again caress her cheek, brushing her hair back from her face. "You enchant me."

He cut off her sharp gasp with a kiss, his mouth light and gentle on hers, his hand still gently cupping her cheek. He could feel her hands fisting in his shirt at his chest, clinging to him as she raised up onto her toes and returned his kiss. If he could remain in but one moment of time forever he would remain here, with her wrapped in his embrace; he tightened his arm about her waist as the snow continued to drift around them. 

----

Misao swept the broom aimlessly in front of her, she could not say if the floor was any cleaner than it was a moment ago. The same absentmindedness had gotten her banished from helping out in the kitchen, Omasu having ordered her out here rather than see another dish get broken. She moved slowly along the wooden floor, thoughts of the night before would intrude and she would pause. Her eyes would be inexplicably drawn to the garden, the perimeter of which she now swept.

The winter sky had grown dark; clouds would drift by and block the moon for a time. The temperature had dropped and she was certain it was going to snow again. She hoped so, the light snow they'd received the night before had all but disappeared by morning, making it seem as if it were no more than a dream. Aoshi had seemed to disappear as well, she had not seen him since he walked her to her bedroom door last night; he had left the Aoiya before she'd climbed out of bed and had not returned. 

__

Aoshi. His name whispered through her and a spreading warmth settled over her, as she thought of the way he had held her in his arms, gentle but possessive. She pressed her fingers to her lips as she thought of the way he had kissed her, sometimes light and soft, she pressed harder with her fingers, sometimes heavy and demanding. She felt her face grow hot and new she was blushing furiously, shaking her head she turned her attention back to her task and began sweeping. The hurried swipes of the broom started to slow again as her mind began to wander once more, recalling a night that the air had been too stifling to allow her to sleep, it had led her out here, to him. Aoshi had held her and kissed her in the same convincing way as he had last night; he had whispered passionately against her lips and then denied his feelings for her in the same breath.

__

What was she to think? Was he telling the truth then or was he now? She sighed heavily as her confusion grew, making her head hurt and her heart grow heavy. To own it, Misao was frightened, frightened of feelings that could wound her beyond repair. She'd had a glimpse of how painful those wounds could be not long ago and knew she could not bear the brunt of that pain again. She'd much rather starve her heart of what it wanted and spend her life in relative safety, with someone who would not consume her as Aoshi did… someone like Kazuhiko Ishida.

Not once since New Year, since Aoshi had kissed her in the kitchen, had she thought of Kazuhiko, until now. She could not stem the tide of guilt she felt, its waves lapping closer and closer to her, washing away the ground that she stood on. Misao shook her head and tried not to think about it, her attempt hopeless as the sound of her name being called made her whip around and stare into the smiling eyes of Kazuhiko.

He bowed politely and she did likewise before hesitantly walking toward him, she did not have to take many steps as he rushed toward her. He immediately grasped her hands in his, his smile widening as he gazed at her and led her down into the garden. She tried her best to smile back at him in the same manor but knew she lacked the enthusiasm. Her mind was too full of the events that had taken place in the last few days, not the least of which was the kiss they had shared. She had not even been kissing him really, she had allowed herself to drift into that land of make believe, where the kiss of one man had slowly become the kiss of another. 

Her guilt increased ten-fold as she swore at herself in silence, vowing it would never happen again, fearing that her vow would only last as long as Kazuhiko did not kiss her again. Her steps slowed as the whirlwind of thoughts increased their spinning in her head, finally her footsteps halted altogether, her head hanging in an effort to hide the tears forming in her eyes as the one truth that would never leave her stopped the cyclone swirling in her head. She would always wish it were Aoshi kissing her, holding her, loving her as she did him, no matter how much it hurt.

"Misao, dooshite?" He asked what was wrong in his gentle voice and when she failed to answer he placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to see the tears that she tried so desperately to contain, spilling over.

He gasped quietly in surprise; his eyes immediately filled with concern. He pulled her gently into his arms and held her. She did not know how long they stood there in the dark; the only sound was that of his hand against her kimono as he stroked her comfortingly between her shoulder blades.

"Why does love always make us cry Misao?" Kazuhiko whispered quietly, she could feel his warm breath against her hair; she lifted her face to look at him.

She had no answer for him and so remained silent while he held her, staring into the gaze of his gentle brown eyes, waiting for him to continue, knowing he had more to say, after several moments he gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing small circles against her skin. She wanted him to kiss her, to prove her wrong, to erase Aoshi's kisses, to erase Aoshi. Then she would not have to be frightened of love; she would no longer feel that hopeless, agonizing, yearning every time she looked at him, every time she could hear his voice or merely the mention of his name. She watched, she waited, and she willed, then, as if in answer to her silent pleading, he lowered his lips to hers. She watched as his eyes fluttered closed, felt his fingers drift lightly over her cheek and into her hair while his other hand on her shoulder gently pulled her closer. She did not deserve this gentleness from him, she was using him terribly, had done so from the very beginning. He lifted his lips from hers and both his hands rest on each side of her face. His eyes stared deeply into hers for several moments, searching… for what she did not know; after a time a small smile touched his lips and seemed to indicate he'd found what he was looking for.

"I will see you later then?" He asked, his voice a light whisper in the nearly silent evening.

He bent his head slightly and brushed his lips against her cheek, then loosened his arms from around her and stepped away. She made no effort to stop him when he turned to go, she merely stood where she was, wishing he had not just kissed her, unknowingly condemning her to a life of deceit.

__

I will continue with my charade. She promised herself silently. _I will continue until I no longer have to pretend that one is the other._

She watched him step through the gate. He turned back to look at her and smiled before the gate closed and he was gone.

----

Aoshi had received his reassurance that Ishida and his wife would be quietly arrested, a carriage was to be sent for them tomorrow morning, allowing them time to put things in order before the life they had known for many years was taken away from them. Kazuhiko Ishida would not suffer any repercussions for his parent's actions and in turn, neither would Misao. 

He went in search of her immediately when he reached the Aoiya; when he failed to find her inside he went to the garden and slid back the shoji. He saw her immediately, her and Kazuhiko Ishida who had her wrapped in his embrace, her face against his chest as he stroked her back. One of Misao's arms snaked around the other man's waist, her hand resting on his back. They were silent, speaking not a word, completely still, holding each other in the dark and then… like a knife slicing through his heart, they were kissing. He stepped through the doorway, watching the two lovers from the shadows, the icy darkness enveloped him, filled the painful void that she had torn and left gaping in his chest. His emotions swirled inside him like a cyclone, thick, turbulent and full of debris. He made no attempt to interrupt, merely watched and waited. When the gate closed behind Kazuhiko Ishida and Misao turned to head back into the Aoiya he stepped from the shadows and smiled at the startled look in her eyes, he could see the quickening pulse at her neck.

__

She is frightened. He thought as he took a step toward her. _As well she should be._

"Aoshi-sama!" She gasped and took a step back as he continued to advance toward her.

"We are back to that are we?" He asked her derisively, making reference to the honorific she had always addressed him with.

__

Except for last night. He thought, feeling the knife twist in his chest, pushing it away and silently vowing he would never allow himself to feel it again. She took another step back and he quickly followed, his hand clamping onto her shoulder preventing her from moving further outside his reach. He tightened his fingers, digging painfully into her skin, watching her try to hide the slight wince from the pain.

"Come Misao." He coaxed, his voice filled with ice cold sarcasm as leaned toward her. "Surely you won't refuse me a kiss."

Her eyes widened in trepidation as his face neared her own, she twisted in his grasp and tried to turn away but he encircled her wrist with his hand and pulled her toward him. She was off balance and fell against him, before she could recover his hand on her shoulder moved to the back of her neck and held her still while his mouth descended on hers.

The same as always, soft and sweet and intoxicating; her kiss would always be like this and he would always lose himself in its intensity. Then, as if he'd been asleep and dreaming, he awoke to realize that something was missing; there were no trembling fingers reaching up to tease his hair, no slight arms wrapped around him and no delicate, feminine body pressing urgently against him. She was rigid, her body straight and stiff in his arms, her hands fisted at her sides and perfectly still, waiting for the most unpleasant of all ordeals to be over. He lifted his lips from hers and released her from his grasp; she did not move away, merely stood and stared back at him, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I still hoped…" She mumbled in what sounded to him like disbelief and then was silent for several moments before she gave a small self-deprecating laugh. "I didn't realize it until now, but… I still hoped."

He felt ashamed, and rightly so, he had no claims on her, if Kazuhiko was who she wanted he had no one to blame but himself for continually pushing her away. Certainly, he had ceased doing so but how could a few days of attention from him make up for all the months he had treated her so poorly, had made every effort to prove he did not feel as he undeniably did.

"After New Year… that kimono…" She seemed to be rambling to herself now as she had dropped her gaze to the ground. "Last night…"

She raised her eyes to his again and he could see the beginnings of tears resting in their corners; she could not have chosen a better punishment for him. He would rather she slapped him, cursed at him, anything other than let him see her tears. She was silent again for several seconds and then, like before, she laughed.

"It was silly of me really… I should have realized…" She was once again berating herself. "You never said…

"Misao." He extended his hand to her and she abruptly knocked it away.

"No!" She snapped at him before stepping away and escaping through the gate. He stood motionless for only a moment before he made to follow her. 

"Okashira!" Hanya's forceful voice stopped him before he could step through the gate. Their gazes locked and held and Aoshi was surprised to see anger in his friend's eyes, anger directed at him. "Let her go."

Aoshi could not recall many times that Hanya had allowed such strong emotions to be seen by others. Contempt he often showed to those with no honor and sometimes compassion for those less fortunate but anger… Aoshi lowered his gaze, he knew his own unsteady heart was the cause of Hanya's anger and hoped that his friend would forgive him.

"I cannot." He whispered to Hanya and made to step past, the weight of Hanya's hand against his chest stopping him once more.

"Then tell her." Hanya demanded and Aoshi looked sharply at his old friend. "Your silence is hurting her."

They stared at each other in silence for several moments, Aoshi lifted his hand to cover Hanya's, nodding his head as he whispered, 'wakatta.' Then pulled his friend's hand away that prevented him from leaving, pushed the gate open and followed her disappearing form in the dark.

He caught her easily as he knew he would, she attempted to run when she spotted him but he was far too quick for her to outrun him. He trapped her against the fence surrounding a small building, his hands pinning her shoulders against the wooden enclosure.

"I want you to listen to me Misao." Aoshi squeezed her shoulders lightly then brought his hands up and placed them lightly on either side of her face. "I want to tell you what I could not say, could not admit before… because I was afraid."

"Aoshi-sa…" She began to interrupt only to be silenced by Aoshi's fingers placed lightly over her mouth.

"Please Misao, let me finish." He pleaded. "If Ishida is the one you have chosen, one word from you will silence me on this matter forever after you have heard me out."

He could not help the small smile as she nodded her agreement to remain silent, just as he could not help lightly kissing her forehead and whispering 'arigato', then dropped his hands away and took a small step back.

Words do not come to him quickly but slowly he begins to tell her everything he has felt, struggled and fought against and finally learned to accept. He watched in rapt fascination at how Misao's eyes seemed to grow wider with every word he uttered and when he was certain they could not get any larger they would widen further at his continued confession.

When at last he finished speaking the air hung silent and heavy around them, neither knowing how to proceed from here. He watched her fidget with the end of her braid, wipe at the imaginary wrinkles in her kimono and bite her lip as if to prevent nervous chatter.

"Aoshi-sama…" Her hesitant voice and the way in which she addressed him made his heart sink, he knew that, despite all his preparations for it, he couldn't bear to hear a rejection.

"Please Misao." He whispered to her, lifting a hand up to brush a lock of hair from her eyes. "Don't say anything yet, just let me have tonight and don't say anything."

"Aoshi." She whispered as her hand closed over his that rest on her cheek.

What she'd been about to say he would never know as at that moment a giant explosion rang out and a fiery ball filled the sky of Kyoto. He quickly shielded her from any falling debris, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, bent slightly at the waist as he stood over her. When it became apparent they were in no danger he slowly straightened, Misao following suit. 

The fire wasn't far away and the sounds of a city jolted awake by the explosion followed by the emergency bell clanging, filled the once silent streets.

Misao's loud gasp made him turn back and look at her; she held her hand over her mouth and her eyes were wide as she turned from the blazing sky to look at him.

"Kazuhiko." She whispered once she lowered her hand.

Aoshi turned back to where the fire still blazed, suddenly realizing that she was probably correct in thinking it was him, not merely because of where the fire was in relation to where he knew their house and shop to be but the parent's current situation. He hesitated, Saitoh's words from a few nights ago coming back to him, _'it would certainly remove an obstacle that is currently in your path'_. He turned back to look at Misao, at the fear in her eyes as she watched the fire burning in the distance and recalled other words that Saitoh had spoken; _'you would stop at nothing to secure her happiness…'_

That damned Saitoh! He thought and with a near growl Aoshi turned on his heel. He commanded Misao to return to the Aoiya when she asked him where he was going then raced to Ishida's with blinding speed. 

----

"Aoshi-sama!" Misao shouted as he quickly disappeared down the street, ignoring his command she raced after him. When she arrived she could not believe her eyes, nearly the entire house and store were engulfed in flames; she searched the gathering crowd for Kazuhiko and his parents and could find no sign of them amongst the onlookers. 

She shook her head, silently telling herself that, no, this cannot be happening. They could not possibly be inside. She turned and started to speed toward the burning structure only to be stopped by a police officer.

"It's too dangerous to get any closer miss." He told her holding up his hand to wave her away.

She looked at him and then back to the burning structure. Kazuhiko was in there; he would die if someone wouldn't help him. Making up her mind she attempted to push past the police officer. He quickly wrapped his arms around her waist and held her back.

"I don't need another idiot rushing in there!" He shouted at her as she struggled to get free of his hold. "That building is about to collapse! If you go in there you'll only get killed!"

"Another?" She gasped her eyes growing wide as she stared at the police officer, realization dawning she turned back to the fire. _Aoshi-sama? Had he…_ She turned back to the crowd, her eyes desperately searching. He was no where in the crowd or the shadows beyond them and her eyes snapped back to the police officer again.

She whispered another plea to the man, begging him to let her go. With quiet sympathy he refused her request, keeping his hold on her, as he didn't trust her not to make another dash for the burning building the moment he released her.

Shouts from the crowed of people standing nearby drew her attention, as well as the police officer's. Misao noticed many of them pointing back toward the fire, with a look of obvious disbelief and she turned to look back at the fire as well, gasping in surprise as Aoshi came out with a barely conscious, choking, Kazuhiko on his back and a violin case under his arm.

The shocked police officer released his hold on her and she rushed over to Aoshi, who was carefully lowering Kazuhiko to the ground. A doctor rushed out of the crowd and started to inspect his injuries. She stood before Aoshi; the rest of the world momentarily forgotten as her eyes glanced over him. He didn't appear to be hurt in any way; she looked up and their gazes locked. She could not, for the life of her, figure out why he would run into that blazing death trap and save Kazuhiko. He would have never survived that fire if Aoshi had not gone in and rescued him; after his confession tonight, after telling her how he felt about her, why would Aoshi risk losing her by saving the one whom she might very well choose over himself? 

"Aoshi-sama… naze?" She asked him quietly, all the while wanting to scream. "Naze?"

He reached for her then, his arms going about her and pulling her close. They stood silent for several moments, the crowd, the fire, everything disappeared around them. She could smell the smoke in his clothes where her cheek pressed into his chest, the warmth from the fire still lingered and it was then she realized, he could have been lost to that awful fire as well. She could be standing with the police officer holding her back as she watched the Ishida house burn to the ground with Aoshi trapped inside. She lifted her arms from her side, now trembling after considering what 'might have been'.

"I have told you why." He whispered and before she could wrap her arms around him, he was gone, having moved away, so quickly that she wasn't entirely convinced that she hadn't just imagined the whole thing. She caught a glimpse of him near the crowd, he was walking and suddenly stopped as he was met by Okina, Shiro and Okon, she could sense Hanya nearby as well; they exchanged words for several moments. The three Oniwabanshu looked across at her as Aoshi spoke, no doubt explaining what had happened, downplaying his heroics no doubt. She was about to walk over and join them when a tap on her shoulder made her turn around; she was face to face with the gentleman who had rushed over claiming to be a doctor.

"It seems he's going to be just fine, miss." The doctor gave his diagnosis. "Other than a bad case of smoke inhalation there's nothing wrong. Not so much as a blister on him."

"Yokatta." She sighed with relief looking down at Kazuhiko, still lying on the ground. His eyes were closed and she could hear his ragged breathing, no doubt caused by inhaling so much of the smoke. She felt so badly for him, he had nothing left; his parents, his home, everything gone in a moment. Still, he was alive and that was by far the most important thing. 

"My parents…" He rasped out, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't try to talk Kazuhiko." Misao knelt down beside him and brushed his hair back from his forehead. "Rest now, you can talk later."

His eyes fluttered open to small slits and she could only wonder at how painfully they must sting from all the smoke. She offered him a small smile as she continued to stroke his hair back, she was rewarded with a slight curving at the corners of his mouth and the light touch of his hand covering hers.

"Young man, you'll be staying with us at the Aoiya." Okina's voice commanded from behind her and after several moments she saw a grateful nod from Kazuhiko to the old man, who then turned and barked more orders. "Shiro, arrange for Ishida-san to be brought back with us."

Misao climbed to her feet and picked up the violin case that lay on the ground nearby, all the while her eyes scanning the vicinity for Aoshi, she thought he must have returned home already as she could not find him. She was headed back herself when she realized that he had not gone home; she and the other Oniwabanshu, followed by Kazuhiko, on a stretcher being carried by two police officers, when she spotted him. Just beyond the crowd of people, on the edge of the shadows, Aoshi stood, with his back to her, talking to Saitoh; she hated that demented cop who always seemed to be puffing on those foul sticks of his. 

Aoshi did not turn to look at her, although he knew she and the others were there. She continued to stare at him, until movement from that creepy cop caught her attention and her eyes shifted to him. He inclined his head and smiled at her, if you could call it that even. Her eyes narrowed as she reciprocated the unexpected greeting by nodding back, he then made a short sound that Misao thought could have been a laugh, if it hadn't sounded so… sinister. She finally turned away without so much as a glance from Aoshi; she had wanted him to look at her, she had wanted to hear him say that he would be home soon and she wanted to tell him that she_… What? What did she want to tell him? What could she tell him?_ She glanced at Kazuhiko, who had lost so much tonight; she could not bear to have him hurt anymore than he already was, but Aoshi... 

----

__

It's been a week, closer to two. Misao silently mused, lifting her cup to her lips and taking a sip of the warm tea she had just brewed as she gazed about the sparsely lit restaurant. The last customer had left hours ago, everything was clean, quiet and empty. She had not been alone like this for days, yet she had felt just as lonely as she did now. Aoshi's absence since the night of the fire weighed heavily on her, compounded further by the absence of Hanya and the others; Okina was the only male member of the Oniwabanshu who had remained at the Aoiya since the others had gone on this mission she knew nothing about. Even Kazuhiko was absent this evening, having gone out to call on a friend.

For the first time in days she had nothing to occupy her time, nothing to make her too busy to think about… Aoshi. The night of the fire she had waited up the entire night for him to return, he never did and then, as she waited half of the next, doubt began to seep in. Doubt about all that had happened, all that he had told her, doubt about everything. The lack of sleep those first two days he was gone, helped in the days that followed. She would busy herself the entire day, leaving no time in between helping in restaurant, taking care of Kazuhiko and training; when she went to her room for the night she could do little more than make it to her futon before passing out from exhaustion. 

Today was different, after the Aoiya closed it's doors for the evening she had tried to occupy herself with training, but after an hour or so of continuing to fail even the simplest moves because of her lack of concentration, she had given up. Everyone had gone to bed, Kazuhiko had not yet returned and so she had made her way here and here she remained, alone, with her doubts churning to life inside her head. She wished Aoshi would come home but then wished, almost just as much that he wouldn't because this would mean her decision would have to be made. Never had she felt such anticipation and dread over anything, and she wished Hanya was home to talk to.

The sound of light footsteps alerted her to someone approaching the kitchen; she knew who it was, no one else made any noise when they walked through the Aoiya. His smile, when his eyes met hers across the darkened restaurant was infectious and she could not help but smile back.

"How did you know I was in here?" She asked rising from her seat.

"There's just enough light that I could see you through the window." Kazuhiko explained after a quick bow in greeting.

"Well, you must be tired and cold." She walked toward him; they turned together and headed back through the door to the kitchen. "I'll make you some tea."

They were silent while she went through the routine of making tea, he watched her from where he leaned against the counter. It was funny how she never got nervous when he watched her; she would never be able to make tea when Aoshi watched her, her heart would race and her hands would tremble as she blushed profusely. She shook thoughts of Aoshi away as she handed Kazuhiko his tea; he thanked her and immediately took a sip, the kitchen growing silent for several moments as she did likewise.

"I'm leaving Misao." She looked at him sharply, surprised at his sudden outburst. He gave a short, humorless, laugh at the uncomfortable situation he created with his announcement. "Tomorrow morning."

"Why?" She blurted out. "You can stay here as long as you like, there is no need for you to rush off!"

He was quiet and she waited, in silence as well, for him to answer her; after several moments he moved to set his tea cup upon the counter then turned back to answer her.

"I could stay here, with you, forever Misao..." He began softly and stepped closer to her, placing a hand on either side of her face before he continued. "Shikashi… I am not the one you want with you forever."

Misao gasped; her eyes wide with surprise as she stared up at him. _He knows._ She shook her head in confusion and he merely smiled his same gentle smile he always bestowed on her, although she could not miss the touch of sadness in his eyes that had not been present before. Sadness that she caused because he knew, as well as she that he could not replace Aoshi, no one could, her heart had decided on the only one it would ever love. She lifted one of her hands to cover one of his that rest against her cheek, every intention of whispering how very sorry she was when the sound of the kitchen door opening made them both turn. 

The Okashira's gaze remained unaffected as he stood in the doorway; after being away from her for over a week, he showed no emotion upon seeing her, happy or otherwise; his eyes merely bore into hers, briefly drifting over to Kazuhiko before returning to hers once again. He mumbled a quick apology before turning away, the door closing noiselessly behind him. 

"Aoshi-sama?" She called after him quietly still staring at the door, willing him to come back, wanting him to lay these doubts in her to rest. Wanting him to tell her again that he loved her, that he hadn't merely spoken those words on a whim and realized later that he'd made a mistake.

"Misao." She turned back to Kazuhiko at the sound of her name, almost forgetting he was there. He sighed heavily as he leaned forward, dropping his hands to her shoulders; he pressed his lips to her forehead and after several moments of silence he whispered. "Things are less complicated than they seam"

"Kazuhiko…" She whispered, wanting to at least put forth an effort at an explanation; he placed a finger gently over her lips, silencing her before she could begin. 

"Hush." He shook his head slightly his finger lifting from her lips to brush at an errant lock of hair that fell across her forehead then stepped forward to embrace her once more. "It was enough that, even for a moment, you thought you could love me."

"Where will you go?" She asked him after a few moments, her voice remaining quiet as he continued to hold her. "What will you do?"

"I am leaving for Osaka in the morning and on to Europe from there." He answered her. "My parents are gone, the future my father gave me is gone with him. The violin is all I have left."

"No Kazuhiko." She disagreed. "You have more than that. You will always have more than that."

His arms tightened around her and they stood in silence, holding each other for what would surely be the last time. She felt his lips against her hair as he kissed her then heard him whisper, 'do not see me off tomorrow Misao.' She began to protest but he merely tightened his embrace and stilled her. 'Let this be our farewell.'

"Kazuhiko." She could do no more than whisper his name and nod her head in agreement to his request.

"I do hope Shinomori-san realizes how fortunate he is." He placed his hands on her shoulders and stepped back, his hands falling down to capture hers, he squeezed them gently then let go completely, turned and left the room.

---

Aoshi's attention was pulled away from the book of poetry as her silhouette appeared against the shoji that closed him off from the rest of the world. He knew that she would come; he'd not seen her for days, the work of the Oniwabanshu had taken longer than he thought and what he'd wished for the entire time he was away from her, he was now no longer certain he wanted. Did he really want to see her, be with her, only to have her tell him what he did not want to hear? Better to look upon Misao's silhouette than Misao; her shadow could not speak, could not tell him of her life she planned with Kazuhiko Ishida, of her life she planned… without him. He could stand here, in his darkened room and read sonnets to her shadow, she would not leave; she would remain forever outlined through the paper in perfect clarity, and he would never hear her shadow say, 'I love him'. _Him._

But that's not true. A voice inside his head whispered. _When Misao leaves she will take her shadow with her, when Misao tells you she loves him, her shadow's lips will silently speak the same words._

No. She would not even leave him that much, when she left she would take everything with her and he would be alone, empty, with nothing, but the bittersweet knowledge that, _he_ could have been her everything.

He watched her silhouette grow restless behind the shoji and he thought she might leave at first, then she lifted her right hand and he physically winced in anticipation of hearing her painful knock upon his door. His eyes grew wide however, when rather than hearing a knock the sound of his door being pushed open caught his ears. As the doors slid apart her silhouette disappeared, leaving Misao standing just beyond the threshold. 

"You will have to forgive my interruption." She stated boldly from the doorway and without waiting for a response she entered.

__

I would forgive you anything. Aoshi whispered the words in silence, then closed his book and moved to the opposite side of his room, putting distance between them, for his own sake. Her behavior surprised him; she had never been timid, often displaying a boldness that bordered on carelessness, however, she'd never done so with him. His thoughts already a jumble of chaos, her odd behavior only adding to it, he could form no reply and merely stood watching her as she walked to the table where the book, he'd only moments ago been reading, lay.

"You were reading this when I came in?" She questioned in her normal gentle voice as her fingers traced the edges of the book of sonnets she'd given him at New Year. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her blue eyes piercing his heart. "Weren't you?"

"Aah." He agreed quietly from where he stood, safe from her nearness.

She smiled and turned away from him; her attention, once again on the book that lay on the table, he watched her open it to a random page and was silent for several moments before asking, 'do you like it… ' She paused, 'the book, I mean?'

"Aah." He affirmed, watching as she continued to turn the pages. "The words, in many ways, reflect my own thoughts and feelings."

The room grew silent again and he felt a momentary flash of anger at himself for voluntarily offering her that information; she always managed to make a mockery out of his self-control. 

"For shame deny that thou bearest love to any…" Her quiet voice read the first line of one of the sonnets as if she had produced those words herself, in answer to someone like him, or who he had pretended to be. He could see the slight turn of her head as she continued reading in silence, the shift of her arm, her fingers drawing softly over the page. How he wished that the page were his skin. She grew still and then turned around to look over her shoulder at him again. "Are those words a reflection of your thoughts and feelings?"

__

What was she doing? Aoshi wondered as he stared curiously at her. First, her brash entrance into his room and now this behavior, she was being playful but not childlike, that look in her eyes as she watched him coyly from over her shoulder; she was being… deliberately provocative. Like a woman toying with her lover. He had to be mistaken; this was Misao and she never acted that way, but still… he could not help but be intrigued. 

"Iie, not those words." He finally answered her question and she smiled before turning her attention back to the book. "But…"

__

What a pathetic warrior. He thought. _To be so easily caught and reeled in._

He crossed the room and stood behind her, the smell of her hair and skin filling him. He reached around her with one hand and opened the book to a particular page, she turned her head to look at him and he met her eyes briefly before looking back at the book.

"Being your slave, what should I do but tend upon the hours and times of your desire?" He paused and raised his eyes to hers once more before he continued, having read it so many times he could recite it from memory. " I have no precious time at all to spend, nor services to do, till you require…"

His voice trailed off under the penetrating gaze of her blue eyes and he knew not how to disguise the imploring look she must be witnessing within his. He no longer had any will where she was concerned; this was the sum of all that he would ever become, the man who loved her, and he knew that it was enough, he did not have to be or know anything more than that.

"Misao…" Aoshi began.

"I love you." Misao interrupted him, her words rushing out like water from behind a dam.

He felt as if he'd been standing on the beach and Tsunami had just crashed over him. He could not breathe, nor tell which end was up for several moments at hearing her utter those three simple words. Had she actually said them? Or was it his own wishful thinking that had created that sound? He had to be certain; he lifted his hand to brush his fingers over one smooth pale cheek, brushing a few errant locks of hair back, he leaned forward and brushed his lips across her temple.

"Say it again." He whispered his command in her ear. He could feel her smile as her arms wound around his waist and she raised up onto her toes, her lips close to his ear.

"I love you." She whispered, slowly this time, each word filling him before the next was spoken.

His arms closed around her in a desperate embrace, he buried his face in the softness of her neck, holding her tightly, afraid to let go. He could not say how long they held each other, it seemed like hours when he suddenly became conscious of the soft, hypnotic stroke of her hand in his hair, the tickling of her long braid over his forearm and the soft press of her body against his. He lifted his head slightly and pressed his lips into her neck, feeling her hand still in his hair, a small shiver and he kissed her neck again and again, working his way up to her lips where she met his eagerly.

He moaned into her mouth, acquiescent with her urgency, his hands raced over her back, holding her tighter against him. He could sense in her the same hunger and need that he himself felt. He broke of their kiss, pulling back to stare into her questioning eyes, both of them breathing heavily, their chests heaving. Aoshi knew that if they went much further there would be no turning back; it had only been a kiss but what lay beyond it, he was not so certain Misao was ready for.

"Misao." He swallowed hard exerting what remained of his self-control. "Maybe you should…"

"Aoshi, please don't send me away." She interrupted him. "I'm not a child who doesn't know what she wants."

He was lost in her blue eyes once more, he stared silently for several moments before bending to kiss her, whispering against her mouth, 'indeed, you are no child.' His self-control was completely gone, as his mouth joined hers; his hands went immediately to her obi, loosening it enough to let it fall at her feet. He pushed her kimono off her shoulders, letting slide down the length of her body to join the obi in a pile at her feet. He ended their kiss and stepped back to look at her, she looked beautiful.

__

And frightened. He thought as she raised her arms and crossed them in an attempt to cover herself. He stepped closer, although he was tempted to pull her arms down to her sides he let her have her small bit of privacy that her slight arms gave her, he kissed her on the mouth and then stepped behind her. His hands shook as he lifted her braid, removing the clasp and slowly, deliberately un-weaving her long hair, the ebony locks spilling down her back. He lifted the dark curtain of her hair and brushed it over her shoulder, the satin skin of her back luminous in the dark. He leaned forward and placed a kiss between her shoulder blades and asked her one more time, 'Misao, are you certain? I doubt I will ever be able to let you go after...'

"You'd better never let me go." She whispered into the quiet stillness and he needed no further affirmation. 

----

Misao reveled at tender state of her body, her limbs languid and heavy, from the worshipping of her body by another. By him. Her eyes drifted around the room, dark but for the small lantern that cast its yellow glow in a small circle from where it sat behind her. She wanted to remember every detail of how this room looked on this night, the small scroll on the wall, the table with papers, strewn in orderly chaos, on the top of it. In the corner, leaning upright against the wall, a sheath that held two kodachi, gleamed in the darkness. In the middle of the room… their hastily discarded clothing lay, symbolic of the life they had left behind tonight and the new one that lay ahead of them from this day forward. Her mouth curved upward at the corners as she remembered earlier, Aoshi's warms skin and soft hands, she barely kept from sighing allowed. Shifting her gaze to look at Aoshi, she studied every detail. He lay next to her, on his stomach, resting on his forearms, touching her, but not touching her as the blanket that covered her and his carelessly donned yukata separated them. In one hand he held the book of sonnets; it would forever be her favorite literary work. In his other hand, he held a dark lock of her hair that he wound around and around his finger in endless absentmindedness. His lips moved, his soft voice spoke ordinary words, arranged in such a way upon the page as to transform them into magic. She looked at his eyes, their beautiful, piercing lucidity partially hidden, as always, by the curtain of his hair. She raised her hand to brush those wisps of hair aside and he caught her hand, pulling it to his lips and placing a kiss on her palm.

"Aoshi." She whispered and then smiled at the lascivious twinkle in his eyes as they met hers.

Owari.

Okay, so pretty much everyone knows how much I hated writing this fic, so what do I do… I add more to it. Actually, this is like my retribution against the fic for having to put up with it all these months. This was a special piece that I posted on the AMML and includes the shameless self-insertion of myself and many of the AMML members, it is a total piece of zany scribbling that I thoroughly enjoyed writing, more so than the actual fic. 

Disclaimer: Even Watsuki will disclaim RK after reading this.

Warnings: Plenty of them!

============================================================================

Misao reveled at tender state of her body, her limbs languid and heavy, from the worshipping of her body by another. Her eyes drifted around the room, dark but for the small lantern that cast its yellow glow in a small circle from where it sat behind her. She wanted to remember every detail of how this room looked on this night, the small scroll on the wall, the table with papers, in chaotic order, strewn on the top of it. In the corner, leaning upright against the wall, a sheath that held two kodachi, gleamed in the darkness. In the middle of the room… their hastily discarded clothing lay, symbolic of the life they had left behind for the new one that lay ahead of them after tonight. Her mouth curved upward at the corners as she remembered earlier, Aoshi's warms skin and soft hands, she nearly sighed allowed. Shifting her gaze to look at Aoshi, she studied every detail. He lay next to her, on his stomach, resting on his forearms.

Movement over his left shoulder made her shift her gaze to the shoji door, the harrowing dread that filled her at what she saw there that night, would be remembered for the rest of her life. Misao's eyes widened in shocked surprise, her shrill scream filled the air.

"Misao!" Aoshi sat up, grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a slight shake to snap her out of it. "What's wrong? Is there a snake in the bed? A giant, deadly, poisonous spider? What?"

"Ko ko ko ko ko." She stuttered in terror and lifted her hand to point at the door. "Kowaiiiii!"

Aoshi followed the path of her horror filled gaze and looked behind him at the shoji.

"Kyaaaaahhhh!" He screamed jumping to his feet, standing protectively in front of Misao.

"O-hai!" Khursten waves hello from the doorway wearing a genki smile even Misao can't match.

"Put that poetry away Aoshi-sama!" She commands cheerfully while miraculously producing, handcuffs, thong and candles from behind her back and steps into the room. "I've got everything you need right here!"

"What is she talking about Aoshi-sama?" Misao cries from behind him.

"Gulp." Aoshi looks nervously from Khursten to Misao and back. "You know how she is."

"I want to get some pictures!" Desi appears behind Khursten, the bright flash of her camera momentarily blinds the two half-naked perverts on the futon.

"Another AMML'er!" Misao sits bolt upright in bed as she shouts, the blanket covering her slips to her waist. 

Desi snaps another photo thinking she might be able to sell them then takes another look at Misao's flat chest and decides maybe not.

"Hey!" Misao's eyebrows furrow together as she recognizes Desi. "She interrupted us last time Aoshi-sama!"

"I can see why Misao's ninja uniform was tight across your chest Desi." Dyosa chimes in as she joins the other two AMML'ers in Aoshi's room.

All three dodge the flying kunai aimed right at their heads.

"She's sensitive about being flat chested." Khursten concluded once they were safe from the flying kunai. The other two AMML'ers nod in agreement. 

"I believe that one was there as well Misao." Aoshi's shura eyes appeared as he also recognized Dyosa.

//for those of you who are old enough, see the shameless self-insertion into the round robin on the Aoshimisaoseijin List regarding the ninja uniform//

SSSSSSSHHHHHHHINNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGG!

The three AMML'ers cower in fear at the sound of kodachi being unsheathed.

"AMML ga kirai desu!" Aoshi growls ferociously.

"What does he mean he hates us?" Desi pipes up offended. "If it wasn't for us Misao would never be in his bed naked!"

"Maybe that's why he hates us." Dyosa suggests and the other two nod at the possibility.

A loud whip crack startles them all and they turn to the door, in walks Nina-chan, her beloved whip trailing behind her. 

"Hey! That's my leather outfit from Saitoh's Angels she's wearing!" Misao complains.

"Yeah and it's too tight in the chest for her as well." Desi mumbles snickering along with Khursten and Dyosa.

"Hello little Love Doggie." Nina-chan cracks her whip and smiles wickedly at Aoshi whose mouth is now hanging open. "Ready for your whipping of love?"

Aoshi drops his kodachi, clasps his hands in prayer before Nina-chan //praying she doesn't hit him I think// and blinks his big bijou eyes at her.

"She sure can handle him well." Dyosa speaks of Nina-chan in admiration.

"Nina-chan Kakkoi!" Desi cheers while snapping another photo then mumbles. "But that Love Dog line is mine."

"Wow, all this time I could have just showed him my whip." Khursten shakes her head in disgust and tosses her handcuffs, thong and candles over her shoulder. "If only I'd known."

"Ne ne Dyosa-san." Dyosa leans in close to hear Desi's whisper. "I knew Khursten-san would have a whip."

"Was there ever any doubt?" Dyosa whispers back.

"Ano…" P. Rico appears in the doorway and points toward the futon. "What is Misao doing?"

They all look at the futon to find Misao shaking, drooling uncontrollably and growing fangs.

"I've never seen Misao like this before." Desi observes, another flash from her camera.

"AMML-GUMI!!!!!! " Misao stands up while shouting, multiple kunai appearing between her fingers. "KONSATSU TOBI KUNAIIIIII!!!!!"

"IIIIIIIYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" They all scream in unison and scatter, returning to the safety of their own homes.

Misao turns on Aoshi.

"You're not afraid of Saitoh or any other crazy swordsman out there!" Misao Keccho Kicks him in the head. "But all you can do when those girls show up is drop your kodachi, whimper and show them your puppy dog eyes!"

"But… but Misao…" He whines. "They are so scary."

"Shut up and get out of my room!" She screams.

"Ano… Demo… eeto." Aoshi stutters. "This is my room."

Well, that was fun… Owari.


End file.
